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Thread: Virginia Guiffres' 'Memoirs' from the Epstein files

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    Default Virginia Guiffres' 'Memoirs' from the Epstein files

    FOIA document obtained by the Miami Herald

    Virginia Guiffres nee Roberts v Ghislaine Maxwell

    Case 18-2868, Document 278, 08/09/2019, 2628230, Page564 of 648til IW

    Source: https://www.theblackvault.com/documentarchive/

    ___________________________________

    The Billionaire's Playboy Club by Virginia Roberts

    To my true love Robbie who believes in me every step of the way and to all of my children, you are all my very inspirations!

    ____________________________________


    Chapter 1

    Every single person in this shared world together has a unique story of his or her own to tell, this one is mine. It was coming up to my third night camping out at Miami Beach in the summer of 1997. I was thirteen years old and hiding from a world full of hurt. Sitting on the shoreline for hours watching the sunset fall deeper into the horizon, my eyes were glazed over with tears, not from being wind-whipped by the rough sea breeze, but from reflecting on the abuse I encountered as a young girl and how everyone in my life who was supposed to be there for me had now turned their backs on me in abandonment. My fears crept up and the excitement of escaping all of them faded now realizing how alone I really was now, and for the hunger that was paining my belly.

    At this point, with nowhere to go and only time to waste, I wiped the tears from my eyes and set out to find an empathetic person that I could manage to get dinner money from. If not, it wouldn't have been the first time I had gone hungry for the night. I walked to the nearest bus stop and asked a handful of people for any spare change, none of whom that could help me. Sitting down on a nearby curb disappointed in grief of my current state, I put my head into my knees and began to sob.

    Out of nowhere, it seemed, a black stretch limousine turned the comer and stopped in front of the curb where I had been hopelessly lost. The back door opened to reveal a heavy weight and balding, old man with a big cheesy smile. Neatly dressed in black trousers and a collared shirt, he was sitting next to a striking young, blonde girl, drop dead beautiful and dressed in a foxy red mini dress she looked like a model just stepping off a runway. Their smiles greeted me wam1ly and he kindly asked, "What is such a sweet little girl like you doing sitting alone on the street looking so upset?" Shocked from this strangers concern 1 was hesitant in telling him the truth. Reluctantly I decided to tell him that I was a runaway, not from around here and really hungry. Hoping at most, I would get some money for food from him. He instantly displayed a chilling excitement and offered me to come into his car so we could talk some more. That should've been my first queue to get out of there quick but with no where to go, and so naive I didn't realize how much worse it could get. Setting foot into that limo, I made my first entrance into a world that would entrap me for many years to come.

    He introduced himself immediately as Ron Eppinger, a businessman and owner of a successful modeling agency, called "Perfect 10". Flaunting his oozing wealth by introducing one of his many girlfriends, the beauty next to him was Yana, a supposed model from the Czech Republic who looked like she could be in her early twenties with the heavy load of makeup she was wearing, but really was only in her late teens. She kissed me on both cheeks and politely said "Hello" in a thick Czech accent, making me feel a little more at ease. Convinced it couldn't be that bad there was another girl in the car, right? I couldn't be more wrong.

    What he didn't tell me to begin with was that his modeling agency was only posing for an undercover trade. By the time I found out I thought it was too late to run. His business was really an illegal immigrant trafficking ring of young women mostly consisting of underage girls that he was using as escorts to make him uber rich. Only available to a selective clientele costing them anywhere from $ 1,000.00 and over per hour of erotic entertainment, the girls were trained to fulfill every sexual desire asked of them, no matter how bizarre the requests might be.

    The high paid escorts, for Ron's super rich clientele, such as Yana and many other charismatic beauties would only benefit a fraction of their earnings for themselves, Ron reaping in the majority of the financial rewards and being they were all illegal immigrants they were further trapped by his enslavement. I proceeded to introduce myself, besides what he had found out about me on the curbside. Telling him my name and a little about how I ended up on the streets explaining that I could take care of myself and didn't need my family or anyone to look after me anymore.

    Looking back later in life I can now admit I was in a terrible state, but being such a headstrong teenager, I refused to give in. He asked my age and I told him I was sixteen at first. He coyly replied, "Are you sure? I think you could be telling me a fib? How old are you ... really? I wont be mad" Being a terrible liar, I knew had been caught out and couldn't deny it any further. I told him the truth and he chuckled then paused and answered in a very serious tone" As long as you never lie to me again 1 will take you in" Right away 1 pondered to myself what did he mean ... take me in?

    He gave the driver the location of our destination and rolled the middle window back up to then tell me a story of how his daughter had passed away seven years ago from a horrific car accident in which four other teens were killed and he has never gotten over it. I reacted with sheer [...]

    […] of life was just mind blowing to even comprehend at first. With such a new outlook of the world to try and grasp at my young age I was listening to every word spoken to me with such attentiveness, I was going to try and model what I was observing from the girls. I justified their way of thinking in my head for now, thinking if all these girls seem happy enough, why couldn't I try to be, it was this or the streets for me. Ron came back for me not long after our conversation got out of hand and took me to a bathroom down the hall. He opened the tap and filled a small plastic cup with water and handed me two small blue oval pills. Telling me to take them both as they would help me to relax a little bit more. I swallowed the pills just following his orders. I put the cup on the counter top and turned back around to face him. Backing me up against the wall and now cornered by this large man I felt his slithering hands began to creep under my shirt, writhing my skin. I closed my eyes tightly and turned my head away from him, hoping he would take my actions as a sign of being extremely uncomfortable but that wouldn't bother him at all. He was half enjoying my reaction from the smug look on his face, and persisted through it. Continuing to undress my clothes he said he wanted to look me over and clean me up. It was so humiliating having to expose myself to this aging man and now I knew he was going to end up with his hands and whatever else all over me.

    All too soon I hated to be right, as I stood naked before his widened eyes, he told me "You're a hairy bugger I'll have to shave you right up young lady", and I didn't know he wasn't just talking about my legs. Standing with my legs wide apart while this man coaxed me through the entire ordeal of shaving, his hands made me feel so dirty. "Have I lost my mind?" I thought to myself but I had to play nice until I had an opportunity to get away, this was not as fun as the girls made it out to be after all, this was utterly disgusting. I had no idea what was going to happen next with this guy, and due to whatever pharmaceuticals he gave me, I still don't know to this day.

    Waking up the next morning my head was pounding in an agonizing thumping pain and I was so thirsty. The satin sheets thankfully covered my body, which was still nude from the night before, and I could hear hushed voices standing over the bed where I was pretending to still be asleep. Listening in on their conversation I kept my eyes shut. I knew Ron's voice from two of the men but not recognizing the other guys I just stayed quiet hoping they'd soon leave. Ron was telling the other man what atrocities he got up to the night before with me and I heard him say, "Doesn't she even look like an angel the way she sleeps? She's my own little angel!" He exclaimed proudly. I opened my eyes and rolled over to face them both having to wrap the sheets over my body, really not knowing what to say except "Good-morning" in a blushful tone. Ron introduced me to his business partner and told to go get dressed. He had my whole day planned out for me already. Booked into get my hair colored, a much lighter tint of blonde, and afterwards a day of shopping with the girls I was becoming exactly what he wanted me to, a carbon copy of the teenage Barbie ... only I wasn't plastic and came with many benefits.

    Days turned into weeks, being a servant to the sexual desires of this distorted pervert. I dreamt of escaping but where would I go and how would I get away from Ron with him controlling my every second of my day. Separating myself from the other girls being so uncomfortable with enduring the everyday occurrences I was longing for the solitude of the beach again. They were training me up to be an escort prodigy or something like it. Outrageous orgies were conducted as my lessons with the girls teaching me all of their tricks in the game, it was all for the sake of men's perverted fantasies, they didn't get anything from being sexually exploited and molesting each other, except getting paid for it. Everything from oral sex to penetration with toys, I was expected to not only to join in but even perform ludicrous acts of hedonism. I was thirteen years old and had never heard the terminology of these sexual acts before, and definitely shouldn't have been learning them first hand. Thrown into a world of chaos, I didn't know what to do except be as compliant as possible, even when asked to do the most degrading tasks.

    The excitement of the lifestyle he offered quickly diminished once I had to pay so dearly for it. The girls that subdued to this lifestyle and enjoyed it definitely put on a good act, but no little girl with hopes and dreams of their untainted future, turns to her mother .and say's "one day I dream of being a prostitute, passed around from man to man, only to grow older regretting so much of my life" It was all a part of an illusion that Ron painted for us that made it seem so alluring in the first place. Spending my days with Ron, he took advantage at every chance given. Even in his convertible with the top down I would be forced to go topless while he drove around, when I asked him why one day, it was supposedly so I could maintain an even suntan, but I knew it was his way of showing off his treasures. It was a far cry from the simple country life I had been raised in. Wearing designer miniskirts and tops that always revealed too much, of course due to Ron and the girls determining everything I wore, ate, or spoke. We would spend our days at hair laser clinics, shopping, tanning beds, and eating as little as possible. Through the nights we were expected to become party animals and greet Ron's clientele with the upmost flirtatious attention and doting as possible. Then whether we were out for dinner, at a party, or at a club, the men would choose his girl and take her home. Every girl had a different price and so did the charges depending on the various clienteles but Ron always kept me for himself.

    […] sympathy and gave him my pity, believing this man had a heart. His next proposal was eerie, he said," If you wanted, I can be your new Daddy. Someone to take care of you and you'll be my new baby forever" he stroked my hair such as a caring parent would comfort a scared child. A part of me wanted to accept his words and believe he really could feel that way, and then I also considered how hard it was living on the streets. In the end I convinced myself this would be the lesser of two evils.

    The car stopped at a plaza on the water, surrounded by little boutique shops, restaurants, and little stalls with items for sale like sunglasses and costume jewelry. I didn't know what to say or do or how to act, it all happened so fast I just went along with everything he said, for now. We went to a take out restaurant and ate on the waterside, and afterwards he took me to GAP Kids Co. to dress me in his idea of proper attire, tiny cutoff shorts revealing the cusp of my buttocks and some shirts that barely fit, even the sales assistant was shocked at what she thought was my Grandfather's choice in clothing. I couldn't even believe it myself only an hour ago I was begging for money living on the streets and now I was dining alfresco and shopping at name brand outlets. We then hit a couple of more specialty stores afterwards. He said he had to buy me a few more necessities to start with. Lacy G-strings and what looked to me like lingerie pieces I had only seen grown women wearing in magazine ad's or movies was now a part of my wardrobe, in my mind it was a big step up from being a little girl any longer.

    The driver took us back to Ron's grand apartment overlooking the isle of Key Biscayne and a large bridge leading into a Miami Harbor. Entering his residence, I was blown away by the spectacular view, rich decor, and white marble floors that were so glossy it looked as if I was stepping on glass. He took my shopping bags to a large room at the back of the apartment and put them into a small closet. The room was considerably large with glass exterior walls that maximized the potential of the panorama landscape soaking in the seascape of Miami. In the room was a gigantic round bed raised off the floor by three steps and mirrors on the ceiling. It looked like a honeymoon suite out of a raunchy hotel. He then exclaimed, 'This is my room here and you will be sharing it with me" When I asked him where I would sleep he then sickly replied "With me silly, where else of course?" With no room for argument I pretended to be O.K with everything that my common sense was screaming out in my head to run.

    Next I was taken down a long hall at the other end of the apartment to meet five more exotic beauties. Three girls were in their late teens and the other two in were in their early twenties. All of them were from the Czech, here under false passports provided by Ron and his contacts. Yana held my hand while introducing me to the group of girls as "Baby" a pet name she came up with for me, being I was the youngest one among them or ever to be brought in by Ron for that matter. It became my new identity not even worrying to mention my real name to anyone anymore. My identity was no longer important to myself, I wanted to become someone new and "Baby" is who I was.

    A shocking first impression, the girls were completely nude revealing their voluptuous young bodies with such a careless ease and others were in just a G-string, similar to the one's Ron had bought me earlier. They were all stunning girls and full of life. Charismatic and beautiful, they were the girls who should be on the front of billboards not selling their bodies to old crewed men for sex. Doing each others make-up in front of the mirror and chatting away on the bed with no care in the world, aiming at persuading me to see the highlights of the life Ron gave them and they almost did. Ron left the room for a few moments, letting us all get to know each other a little better and that's when I started to compile an understanding of what really went on here. Just catching a bit of their conversation from before my introduction, I heard them chatting about the night they were preparing for. Speaking excitedly about some men they would be entertaining in a few hours, one girl was talking about going out to sea with one of these clients on a yacht for a few days.

    (Contd.)
    Last edited by Bluegreen; 8th December 2019 at 05:06.

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    Default Re: Virginia Guiffres' 'Memoirs' from the Epstein files

    (Contd.)

    Since none of the girls seemed shy to talk about their professions or anything for that matter, I decided to ask them a few questions about what they did. They were more than happy to expand on their point of view in the conversation, attempting to paint a pretty picture of what they were paid to do. They all began to jump up and down with excitement like giddy school girls at a slumber party. Another girl with jet-black hair and a thick accent, wearing absolutely nothing at all, grabbed me onto the bed with them and into their fiasco, instantly making me feel accepted into their sorority, like I actually belonged somewhere for once.

    Yana went on to explain a little more in detail, " We accompany the wealthy friends of Ron. They want only beautiful girls by their side so we come and act however they want us to but most importantly we make them think we want them back too." Other girls began to jump in with their vivid points of view while playing with my hair, they were taking it and brushing and styling it as they were filling my head with all of the prospects I could have as an escort too. They made me feel beautiful like them, too beautiful for what a girl beyond my years should feel. I was simply being lured into a dangerous trap, just like they had been at a young age too. It pretty much all came down to two things in their game, the money they would make and the lifestyle they were given. Their enthusiasm only interested me further, making it not only sound like an acceptable way of living but also appearing to keep them all vivaciously satisfied.

    I would always dread the end of every night, fearing what new desires he had in-store for the evening. Sometimes he would hurt me and tell me to try and enjoy it then do it over and over again until I gave him exactly what he wanted, I always resisted until I could no more, he was too overpowering and relentless at getting the results he wanted. At other times he could be so gentle and caress my skin, worshiping every inch of my body, all relying upon on what mood he was in. Often though he liked to play the teacher role and instruct me on every motion and explain what would happen when I did those certain things to him. No matter what he did to me I was only disgusted with myself more and more. I still shudder at the thought of how he used my body.

    I turned fourteen in August that same year and was spending my birthday loaded on a concoction of pharmaceuticals and alcohol, being generously supplied by the very man who swore his devotion to caring for my every need. I didn't even know myself any longer, completely shying away from the girl I had grown up to be until to this point. The apartment was empty except for me, for the time being, and that was God's own little present for me ... some solitude for once, I thought. Pouring myself another drink I opened the sliding glass doors to the balcony and walked to the edge. Looking down from the many stories where Ron's apartment was, I wished myself a happy birthday out loud and wondered if my family even remembered the day's occurrence. Dwelling in my sadness for the fourteen years of suffering and loneliness I had already endured, the tears swelled up in my eyes, trickling downwards making my eyeliner inevitably leak down my cheeks. Inside I felt so trapped and began to entertain the thought of jumping over the edge, it all seemed much easier, and the simple blackness that death had to offer rather than the tangled mess I was so tired of fighting to get out of seemed a much easier approach. Detached from wanting to feel anything, I became so numb towards my life's own tragedies. I couldn't live like this any longer. I lifted my bare legs over the edge of the railing and sat looking at the ground beneath me so close to even just slipping off the edge to my very death. I couldn't think of any reason not to fall. I thought I had made too many bad decisions to keep going on but some force of a higher nature had other things in store for me.

    The sliding door slammed open with a burst of speed and Ron scooped me up in his big arms and brought me inside to our bedroom. Laying me down and seeing the look of despair in my eyes from my tear stained face he went into the bathroom cupboard and returned with three pink pills. Forcing me to swallow them using the angered tone of his voice he thought he was turning my sorrows into a distant dream as I passed out in his tight clutches, crying myself all the way to sleep. He didn't even ask me what was wrong, probably because he knew already. Soon enough the crumbling of his evil empire in the underworld of selling sex for his own advantage began with a single crack in his perfect scheme, and proudly it all started with me.

    Ron got a scare one day and rampaged through his apartment telling us girls to only pack our important belongings and some clothes as we all had to leave right away. I didn't have much belonging to me so I basically sat there watching everyone rush around frantically and was curious what could've gotten a man like Ron so scared. Once we were packed up and in the limo he was trying to calm the frantic girls down after all the panic that spread through the apartment like wildfire, I was the only one sitting there half amused at the entire situation. He began by assuring us that everything was going to be fine. Calmly he continued to tell all of us packed in tightly, even for a limo, that we were all taking a long trip to Florida's countryside because someone has reported an anonymous tip to the missing persons unit at the local police station identifying a very young girl as a possible victim of abuse living at his apartment. Ron knew what a landmine of trouble he had brought upon himself making an exhibition out of me on the streets of Miami, I didn't pull off the older look like the other girls, I actually looked younger than my age with my blue eyes and freckles always giving the impression of my youthful innocence. Now he just had to do whatever it took to ensure he stayed as far away from the authorities as possible.

    Arriving at a ranch in central Florida many hours later and I assumed it belonged to Ron knowing never to ask him things like that. I knew my purpose and it wasn't prying into his personal life outside of the bedroom. There was a main house, a few cottages, some staff quarters and paddocks where the horses were kept. I was in heaven ... I thought at first. Finally, something I could really enjoy. Riding was my passion, basically growing up on the backs of horses since I was just able to walk. Not surprisingly I began to despise Ron and all of the girls for the gross exploits they made me do with them. Beginning to isolate myself from everyone I'd rather spend my time sitting under a tree watching the horses graze, writing in my journal or painting but mostly avoiding everyone possible unless Ron required me elsewhere.

    Nighttime was always a reoccurring nightmare for me. Relived over and over again in many various ways. Ron would always start by making me some drinks and offering an assortment of pills before indulging himself by grotesquely putting his genitals in my mouth and tell me how to give him what he would call a "first-class blow-job", and I was being judged every minute of it. Ordering me to slowdown or speedup or maintain a perfect rhythm, I was constantly being criticized for my efforts in pleasing him, and was eager when he actually gave me a compliment. The rest of the evening was always a surprise left up to a moments notice. Quite regularly he would proceed with having the girls dress me up in some sexy outfit and loads of makeup then entertain him with a lesbian reenactment revolving him in the center. Sometimes they would use dildos and other foreign sex toys, Ron liked to see us hurt during sex, sometimes even penetrating me anally but I always resisted and would try to redirect him with another sexual desire of his but I had no excuses when it came to me having to use the sex toys on him, he told me how men have g-spots in their rectum and instructed me on how to precisely penetrate him. These nights went on what seemed like an eternal sentence for the price of not living on the streets, where unfortunately for the one's still there, I feared and knew from my own personal experience, could be much worse.

    Needing some contact with someone of my adolescent mentality I called one of my school friends from the past, whom I won't name out of privacy, but I'll call him T.J. We were so close and I knew very well, so well, I had memorized his number a long time before. He was my first puppy love sprung from of a childhood friendship. Being my very first crush the summer before all of this happened he was the only person I could think of that would care enough to talk to me. In the middle of the day, the least busy time to be noticed, I snuck into one of the vacant guest rooms and used the phone to call my good friend. The sound of my voice radiated a chill in him. "It's you, oh my God! Are you okay?" He was so shocked to hear from me and the sheer fact I was still alive. Nearly three months now without a single word to my family or friends, every one doubted my return. My attempt to forge a happy voice when I spoke to him failed and I absolutely crumbled when he was at a loss for kind words for me. I told him of my current state of affairs. Telling him of Ron and how I was terrified of him, trying to escape in the middle of nowhere was useless. It was like being kept in cage that I was unable to break free from.

    Going on to dump my issues on T.J, I proceeded with how I longed to call my family and to be with my them for good but was too afraid they didn't want me, knowing 1'd just be sent away somewhere else again and to me after all this time was like going from one cage to another. He had been called by them numerously and promised me that they were very worried and even hired private investigators to try and find me. Given I was eleven years old the first time I was sent away, my trust in their sincerity he spoke about was seriously doubted. I kept the conversation short just in case my absence was being noticed and I left on the note that I would speak to him again shortly. His attempts to get off the phone were nothing short of a desperate plea to keep me on as long as possible. I thought he was just trying to help in someway. Giving him assurance in the fact I had survived this long obviously I can hold off a while longer I gave him my love and told him I'd be in touch.

    Thinking I had slipped away unnoticed I entered into the room that I shared with Ron, hoping I got away with my brief and very needed phone call. The place looked empty and everyone else seemed to be out and about so I decided to have a bath in the spa and try to relax before the night's precautions. My body glided into the steamy water as I began to think about TJ and how good it felt just to hear from a friendly voice. My thoughts drifted into the days I missed when I felt I could be silly and childlike and I nearly forgot for a moment how grown up I was acting these days.

    My first glimpse at the image surrounding me when I resurfaced above the water was daunting. There was Ron standing over my tub, looking down at me with an eager display of his arousal. He began to undo his pants and take them down when he told me "put your lips on my cock", I was too slow in responding to his request so he grabbed me by the back of the head and forced me into his groin. I had tears streaming down my face as I looked up to him with the saddest blue eyes hoping he would take pity and stop, but he never did. I was really hurt by his aggression and he definitely knew it this time, which I believe only made him more heated. I closed my eyes and began to count using the time to keep my thoughts elsewhere believing every number I counted only furthered me to the end of this. I just got over a hundred when he finally exploded in fulfillment. Still half submerged in the deep bath, I was struggling to gain my bearings as Ron picked me up out of the bath and carried me to go to the bedroom, which was just outside the French adjoining doors.

    Still damp from the hot water in the spa I had goose bumps from the chill of the fresh air where he brought me to the bed and proceeded to deeply violate my every being. Eventually his scars that he left were too deep ever to be healed and would even carry on through the years to come. Upon his bursting with pleasure for the second time, he just got up and left, without even saying a word to me. Left alone I was awake for hours after that. There was no escaping the pain that night. I lay naked wrapped in the sheets, sobbing in the dark. My feelings of being hurt and disgusted after his abusive ordeal "When will it ever stop" I prayed to God and begged for death rather than face another day in my life. I woke up still alone the next day and exasperated from the misery I felt the night before. Ushering through my drawers to find something to throw on I could care less what lay in store for me today, couldn't be as bad as being raped by a scary man repeatedly.

    Starting my day with a few of the supplied oxycontin's and a bloody mary, made by the live-in house chef. Having two celery sticks for my breakfast, I wanted to lie out by the pool and forget the world. Ron hated tan-lines so to be caught with a bikini top on was a big no-no in his male book but after my cries to stop were so blatantly ignored last night, I was out to piss him off so I didn't remove my shirt. I put on my headphones and before I knew it had fallen into a deep slumber from my self-made therapeutic cocktail, the only way r knew how to cope with the emotional turmoil on the inside.

    Desperate to hear his voice I called my friend TJ a few more times that week. I needed to feel like someone out there really knew me. Sometimes we could just chat like old friends with no care in the world and laugh at a distant memory from too long ago. Then would come the good-bye part of the conversation and we would both get teary-eyed not knowing what could happen next or if this would even be the last time we ever spoke to each other again. My biggest fear came to reality when I was in our bedroom one afternoon, just lounging around out of boredom. Ron came bursting in through the door, red as a tomato. I couldn't help but feeling I was in big trouble. His face was distorted and raging towards me. I knew right away he must have found out that I was calling TJ, but how, I had no idea. I had always tried to be as invisible as possible, soon enough it was all explained.

    "Are you trying to get me caught? You are nothing but a stupid girl you know that! What am I supposed to do with you now?" He was tearing up the room while his rants gave me something else to think about. What would he do with me if he had no use for me any longer? I wasn't even thinking about him being caught for soliciting illegal immigrants for the purpose of prostitution. I was more worried that he would be upset at the fact I was talking to another guy, maybe even jealous that he was at least my age. I replied with simple sentences that I could manage to get out between all the shouting. I kept saying, ''I'm sorry" and putting my head down in shame. He picked me up by my throat pinning me against the wall, "You are going away, far far away from me and you better be nicer to the next man I send you to, I've heard he's not a nice as most would like. Are you ****ing hearing me bitch?" I slid down the wall, choking on the first air entering my lungs, breathless and terrified, I never thought Ron was a nice guy but I had never seen him lose it this bad. Now I was being sent me away to another stranger, another man, it only terrified me more.

    The girls came in to say their good-byes all of them were crying and asking me in their best English languages, why I had to call someone and lose everything? I was able to find out through the broken
    sobs of them that the confession came from the house-keeper who said she saw me use the room regularly but was never messed up, so Ron looked at the recent telephone bills and found the same number dialed from that room consecutively, he knew it was me right away. At least he didn't know it was another guy, I thought to myself, or r probably wouldn't have made it out of there alive. Ron came back to usher the girls out of my room and told me I had five minutes to pack my clothes, which he made clear were to be my only belongings to take with me. He washed his hands clean of me that night, or so he thought.

    (Contd.)
    Last edited by Bluegreen; 30th November 2019 at 04:38.

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    Default Re: Virginia Guiffres' 'Memoirs' from the Epstein files

    (Contd.)

    The driver came knocking at my door, just as Ron said, no longer than the five minutes that he had offered me and he took my single bag to the car. I didn't want all the jewelry, music or books that he so caringly bought me as tokens of his twisted affection. Only taking my clothes and a wad of hundred dollar bills I had been saving, I slit a hole in my scunchie inserting my cash for a rainy day that I was more than sure was just around the corner. We drove for hours, until I started seeing familiar surroundings. I couldn't believe my own eyes. I was back in Miami, but not on the beaches, somewhere in the CBD this time. The driver delivered me to the front door with my one bag and waited at the door with me. Now I knew how it felt to be a puppy picked from her litter as you can only hope your next owner would treat you with some sort of kindness.

    Another balding man answered the door but he wasn't so grotesquely fat like Ron, but still a new owner at that. He looked me up and down and seemed amused as he snickered to himself. With one last look to the driver over my shoulder it was almost an appeal to him for some way to help me. I knew he couldn't anyways, I was just hoping. He told me his name was Charlie but didn't even bother in asking me for mine. I was sure Ron already filled in all of my details when he arranged this. Charlie picked up my bag and led me into his bachelor pad townhouse. I was never given a welcoming tour of my new residence or made to feel comfortable. He walked me up the stairs and opened one of the doors in the small hallway. Telling me this would be my room, he showed me into it and told me to wait, he would be back shortly. I sat on my bed afraid to touch anything and after the warning Ron gave me I knew I had to watch my step around here. I put my head down onto the pillows my where world was falling apart and let my emotions downpour. Exhausted from the days emotional turmoil I ended up falling asleep. I don't even know if he ever came in at all that night.

    The next morning I looked out of the window to see my new surroundings. It was a beautiful sunny day outside, unlike the dreary cell I was locked away inside of. Feeling the sun warm up my face through the glass, it radiated a familiar sense of comfort from the days of the good parts of my childhood. I reminisced how it had used to be before all my life turned upside down. Before all of the fights with my family, before I had to look after myself, and before I was a slave to men. Those days were too long gone now. With too many hard times passing me by it seemed surreal to think that life had ever even existed in the first place. With that thought I shook myself out of reminiscing that way. Whatever was going to happen was out of my control now, I just had to give myself some hope that I would have the strength to get myself out these circumstances before anything really bad happened.

    (End Ch. 1)
    Last edited by Bluegreen; 30th November 2019 at 04:40.

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    Default Re: Virginia Guiffres' 'Memoirs' from the Epstein files

    Moderator Note from Cara:

    Thanks Bluegreen.

    In answer to your question, I’ve put the first three parts of the memoirs that you posted into their own thread. They can be moved to somewhere else if someone has a better idea!
    *I have loved the stars too dearly to be fearful of the night*

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    United States Avalon Member Bluegreen's Avatar
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    Default Re: Virginia Guiffres' 'Memoirs' from the Epstein files

    Case 18-2868, Document 278, 08/09/2019, 2628230, Page570 of 648

    Chapter 2

    The house was quiet so I just assumed Charlie was still asleep. I decided to get cleaned up and have a shower. Not even a knock on the door when Charlie walked in with ease. "Typical" I thought. It was an easy way for Charlie to break the ice. "You really are as beautiful as Ron said" as he opened the curtain. Watching me rinse myself in the shower and me knowing I had no way out of this except to go along with whatever he wanted. I just looked down at the mention of Ron's name, wondering what else he had told Charlie about me. Realizing later that he wouldn't have said anything anyways, in fear I would've been a damaged product that wouldn't make him the money that young girls go for. He just sat on the side of the vanity top and continued to take observations of me standing submerged under the falling water.

    I avoided looking at him and let him do all the talking, after all I knew what I had to say was of no importance, that is if he was anything like Ron. Between the water beating down over my head I could slightly hear him ramble on about some club and restaurant he owned in Fort Lauderdale. He said he was going to take me shopping for some club outfits and we would party together tonight, as if I was supposed to be excited over this so-called treat of his. I looked up and gave him a quick smile adding a compliant nod and turned my attention to turning off the faucets and quickly grabbing my towel.

    I was falling so far from who I used to be, shying away from my outgoing personality to a quiet girl that didn't even recognize herself in the mirror anymore. I dried myself off and looked at the man standing between the doorway and me. He was still watching me with a sleazy look on his face but now preceded to move in my direction, arms wide open. He embraced me, running his hands up around my youthful curves, licking my neck and earlobes. Then his large, rough hands cupped my small breasts and continued downwards to feel in between my legs. I knew what I had to do to get this over and done with as quick as possible, but I was dreading this moment from the second he greeted me at the door last night.

    I fell to my knees and gave into his demented perversions. Thankfully it didn't last long before he climaxed and I was allowed to get myself dressed and ready to go out. I was nothing but money well spent in his mind. This was another extremely wealthy man with a completely new set of wants and needs asking a fourteen year old girl to affectionately dote on sexual desires to a man in his mid forties.

    I really hated myself - these men, and just about everything my life had boiled up to by this point, but I knew from a young age that to survive in this harsh world I would have to do many things I would not willingly choose to. At the shops he decided he would choose the clothes he paid for, which I might as well have been declared a teenage prostitute. Just like Ron he also liked it that way.

    The more degrading he was to me only proved his ownership of my body. He bought me tiny cocktail dresses, and skimpy outfits, which I thought closely, resembled the lingerie he'd also bought for me to wear for him. I noticed that day that he enjoyed parading me around the shopping mall and out for lunch at Hooters, even joking with the waitress that he'd like to buy her uniform because he thought it'd look sexy on his new girlfriend.

    We arrived at his two in one, Restaurant and Club, at around nine o'clock in the evening. It was a revolving tower called "Hot Chocolates" in downtown Fort Lauderdale. The food was delicious and for the first time since being with Ron, I ordered a hefty meal with steak and mashed potatoes with a scrumptious gravy smothered on top. Charlie ordered strong cocktails for us both and before I knew it my head was spinning and we were on the dance floor together. The music blared in my head and the rhythm of my body took over, completely forgetting about even dancing with Charlie and letting the music take ahold and work it's magic. It didn't do me any justice though as Charlie watched me imagining what pleasures lay in store for him later on. Taking me home before the club had even closed, he just couldn't wait to indulge on exactly what he was fantasizing from beforehand.

    Once back at his townhouse he led me up the stairs into his bedroom and pushed me down in the middle of his bed. The motions from the wavy mattress made me dizzy and feel even darker when he lay on top of me. Coming at me like a hungered beast wanting to ravage his next meal, it was intimidating as he entered into me with a forceful thrust, he moaned out in delectable heaves. I looked away while he self indulged his own gratifying needs using my body as his instrument in pleasure. I only grew stronger in my head letting the hatred for men desires intensify.

    (Contd.)

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    United States Avalon Member Bluegreen's Avatar
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    Default Re: Virginia Guiffres' 'Memoirs' from the Epstein files

    (Contd.)

    The next two weeks I was expected to be at Charlie's beck and call, never allowed to leave his side, even making me sleep in his bed from the second night onwards. I never even got the chance to call T.J again. It was too much of a risk anyways. Thus pushing him further out of my memory, too afraid, of the emotional repercussions.

    Our typical routine was to wake up get showered and dressed and I would put on my make-up while Charlie made his business calls for the day. We would leave the house mid-afternoon and do his errands, do some shopping, sometimes meeting his friends or business partners for lunch, none of the men he introduced me to seemed offended at his choice of adolescent eye candy. They'd just continue to chat away as if it was normal to be in public with his arms draped over a girl young enough to be his granddaughter, not too shy by giving me a flirty tap on my bottom or even try to kiss me.

    My last night was no different from every other night. We went shopping that day and out for lunch alone. Later we headed to a club his friend just launched and it was his grand opening that night. The club was called "Iguana Joe's". We met up with his friend and said our hellos. They both seemed so excited about the club and Charlie was full of compliments all around. The club did have a line out the door which looked a mile long coming in, luckily we didn't have to use the front door. Charlie returned from the bar with two giant long-island iced teas, which were his favorite drink to start with and then we just sat for a while watching people dancing, occasionally conversing about passing thoughts. We danced for a while having a few more drinks and after about two hours, Charlie said he was ready to go home. What a daunting time to look forward to, he always liked to have a brief sexual encounter before drifting off to sleep with my naked body intertwined between his arms and legs.

    It was bad enough to have to entertain him at every given second of the day but his grip on me was so stifling I felt so choked I could hardly breathe much less sleep. Eventually my over-worked mind would drift in-and-out of a restless sleep, but constantly on edge. I thought many of nights of escaping, but where would I go? Would one of Ron's ever-so-connected informants find me and turn me into him to be disposed of for good? I just prayed that I wouldn't be another missing person to add to the list of girls found in the local ditches. I knew that's where I was headed if I screwed this up for Ron again.

    As if my guardian angel was there the whole time listening to my secret prayers, my rescue came the next morning with an abrupt bursting through the bedroom door at about six am. Charlie and I were still lying in bed together and his grip on me was still tight. The men dressed in all black military gear had large guns and helmets on. It was so frightening at first. I couldn't even comprehend what was happening so rapidly. I thought Charlie could've been in some kind of trouble with a business friend he had done wrong too, but then one of the men in black shouted "FBI this is a raid get down with your hands on you head!"i

    In too much shock to move three of the men grabbed Charlie and threw him to the floor and cuffed him. I sat up in bed with my sheets covering my naked body and watched as they dragged Charlie from the room. Still completely nude he wasn't even allowed to get dressed. Another agent had to come back in to the room to find him a pair of shorts. I could hear him screaming at the top of his lungs all of the way outside He was screaming and the last thing I heard him yell was "If you say anything you know who will find you!" I could hear more threats being yelled at me but I couldn't make out what it was that he was saying. I was in total confusion and couldn't believe what was happening. There were so many uniformed agents I felt so small compared to all of them but they were all very kind and helped me out of bed allowing me to remain covered up with the bed sheets so I could get dressed. The first decency I had been showed in a long time. It was an odd feeling to acknowledge. I knew the life I had come accustomed to for the last six months was now over, and in so many ways I was relieved but was also very nervous about what lay ahead of me.

    I excused myself to the bathroom to put some clothes on. Not having anything half decent, like a normal pair of jeans and a t-shirt, the best I could come up with was a metallic blue miniskirt and a tiny matching top that fell just below my breasts, hardly clothing at all it was more like scraps of cloth. Putting my hair up in a tight bun with the scrunchie that held my five hundred dollar bills I was led out of Charlie's townhouse for the very last time.

    Starting my life over ... again, I wanted to leave behind my every memory belonging to these horrid times. Only taking small sack containing my underwear, makeup bag, and journal with me. The agents led me down the staircase and my last vision's of Charlie was bent over the hood of a police vehicle still screaming and handcuffed. I slipped into the backseat of the car and was driven to Broward County Police Station where the Federal Agents interviewed me about my entire whereabouts for the last six months. I was so scared of what Ron would do if I told the agents what really happened but at the same token I knew he'd most likely kill me anyways for being such a liability.

    Over the next few hours I sat down and told the agents how Ron's business worked and what I part I had to play to him. I was able to ask how they found out I was at Charlie's house and they informed me that I was being followed all the way from Ocala, Florida where Ron had me stowed away for the last four months. T.J, my friend, called my parents after our first phone conversation and ever since then, the FBI were tapping the phone lines and recording every conversation.

    (Contd.)

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    United States Avalon Member Bluegreen's Avatar
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    Default Re: Virginia Guiffres' 'Memoirs' from the Epstein files

    (Contd.)

    Completely unaware of TJ's caring act of deceit, I was in such shock that they had been tracking us for so long. I knew now, with or without my help, the FBI had enough on Ron to put him away for a very long time, if they could catch him, that is. Having so many crooked people working for you can be an advantage when you're in trouble. Like having a pair of eyes in every city. Ron was somehow able to find out about Charlie's arrest and immediately deserted the country to avoid legal punishment, not to mention the discreditization of his esteemed clientele that the feds were now on to. Ron had so many countless charges put up against him, eventually when the FBI were able to track him down they were able to have him arrested in Yugoslavia and extradited back to Miami, he was finally held accountable for being a pedophile, soliciting women for prostitution, and running many illegitimate and illegal businesses. By the time the FBI caught him he was in his mid-seventies when he died of old age serving his second year prison for a lengthy sentence.

    Coincidentally I was told of his punishment and death many years later by one of the same FBI agents that had rescued me from Charlie's arms. I was taken out of the interrogation room after the interview was over with and told to sit at one of the officer's desk while I was waiting for someone to pick me up. Uncertain of who that someone would beI assumed it would be someone from the juvenile delinquents division to take me back to some state operated lockdown facility. Not the nicest of places to call home, but I had no choice in this matter.

    Sitting back in the revolving chair I was twirling out of boredom and listening to the roaming conversations within the office. I pondered in fearful anticipation of the dreadful places that lay in store for me. Having to of spent a lot of my adolescence in these kind of places for the sheer factor that my mother said "I was out of control and unable to handle" by eleven years old. There was plenty of just reason for me to be so scared of those places. What I knew lay in store for me were constant fights between the rough girls being settled with violent raids then out came the pepper spray and then the strip-searches and worst of all, no sunlight. It didn't matter if you were a quiet, shy girl that didn't belong there, when there was a fight, which was could be like a few times a week, every person in the room was considered a threat and were treated like a violent criminal. I hated those places and the memories they gave me.

    That's why I always ended up back on the streets. No child or even a juvenile should have to be subjected to such unreasonable force and neglect. Some of the girls were so used to being subdued to this kind of treatment their whole life they ended up repeating the same attributes as the people who initially hurt them in the first place. One very sad girl I'll never forget her, had a father who had been a heroin junkie and decided to play Russian Roulette with some of his addict friends and by fate or chance took the bullet straight through his brain, killing him instantly. Her mother being a heroin addict herself spiraled downwards after his death and gave her four year old child to her ageing grandmother that eventually had to put my twelve year old friend in this un-dire circumstance.

    I can only have the highest hopes for her today but unfortunately for most girls that have been victimized by society aren't able to ever stop being a victim for the rest of their lives or go on to make other people victims themselves. A sad and unfortunate fate for so many innocent, and it happens so much more than anyone would rather admit too instead of just trying to find a solution.

    (End Ch. 2)

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    Default Re: Virginia Guiffres' 'Memoirs' from the Epstein files

    Chapter 3

    Hours later I was still twirling myself in the same office chair when I spun around to see my Father walking in my direction. I nearly fell off my seat at the sight of him. Gripping the chairs handles I couldn't imagine what in the world I would say to the man I once used to call Daddy but now hated for the abandonment and unforgiving wounds he instilled inside of me. He contemplated putting his arms out to hold me but instead anger and shame took over and he just shook his head. I never saw my Dad cry until that day and I have to say it made me feel young again and sad I had disappointed my parents again.

    The agents now standing beside us led both of us together back into the interrogation room to re-tale my journey to my father who they said I had no choice to tell, or they would have to tell him for me, being I was an under-aged minor and Ron violated the statutory rape law, among many others, when he took me back to his apartment and kept me as his sex slave. My Dad couldn't believe what he was hearing and for his lack of better choice in words asked me to stop talking, he was just happy to know I was alive. Like everyone I'd known in life they would rather brush it under the carpet and not deal with the pain rather than realizing sooner or later it all comes out sometime in our life even if it transgresses into our future then becomes what we are willing to accept out of partners, work, and people in general. Simply saying in other ways than with words that our bad decisions befall our tragedies later on in life.

    The next discussion was led to where I would go to from here. Before anyone could put his or her suggestion forward] leapt in with my two bits and made it obviously clear to my Dad that if] was sent away to another lockdown facility and if he betrayed my trust, again, he would never see me again. I would disappear for good this time and for all he would know I could be dead in no time on the streets. He looked at me and for the first time in my life he saw the many years I had grown up in the time I was gone and heard the seriousness in the tone of my voice when I made my vow to him. He put his head in his hands and told me the bad news, my Mom didn't want me to come home and she was making his life hell for even suggesting bringing me back into their lives. I for some reason threatened her lifestyle and drove her crazy.

    I had been surprised about a lot of things lately but not that one. The last time I saw my Mom she ever so carefully lied to me and told me she was bringing me to an eye-doctor for an infection. Instead we walked into this tall blue building with people in uniforms holding clipboards and a few muscly guards, she ushered me inside and hurried up to close the large auto lock doors behind her leaving me there alone and imprisoned, which is what led me to recently living on the streets. My life was hell as long as she was in control of it, so when she didn't want me back at home I was fine with that too, but there had to be somewhere else I could go. My dad said he had no choice but to put me back into the facility, but he made a sincere promise that he would not take any longer than a week to try to find a place for me to stay and to go to school. A week I could deal with, but I was still unsure if I could trust my father and hold him to his word, but yet again, I had no choice. Being my legal guardian he could send me anywhere he wanted and there would be nothing I could do, except for keep running.

    I gave in, and before he left the officers to take me back to the last facility I had run from, I gave him one last hug and reminded him "one-week and I'm gone". Nodding his head and squeezing his arms tighter around me, I could only hope he meant it, but he didn't look too optimistic. In the police car on the way back to the facility they had to handcuff me in case I ran again, but I had no intentions to anyways. I was going to give my dad the week before I began to search for the right opportunity to jolt again. I was like a "ghost come back," said so many of my girlfriends from the past and there was now a lot of new faces there too. At night when we were all in bed and supposed to be sleeping, I would be daydreaming of better days and imagine myself somewhere in a comfortable bed, actually enjoying my life for a change.

    A week went by in this facility spending most of my days locked up in what they called "The White Room", a bare room with concrete flooring, no toilet or even a chair to sit on. The only comfort I had was the blue sweater that was provided as part of the uniform, and my hair scrunchie filled with my stowed away cash that no one had found during my unpleasant strip-searches. I would spend hours in the white room for objecting to their conformity and unwilling to participate in their drilling regime. I didn't feel like I owed any explanation to these people even when they brought a physiologist in to speak with me, "What was the point when I would be gone any day now" and as if any of these people even cared in the first place, I was just another number in the system and they had a job to do.

    There was one mega-bitch, female guard, named Evelyn and she used to either really like you or really hate you and God-forbid you were one of the unfortunates that she didn't like, she'd make your entire stay their an agonizing nightmare. Constantly picking on girls who were not strong enough to cope with their predicament or past issues, she'd stand them up and publicly humiliate them, and even when they begged her through their sobs to let them sit down, she'd only torment them worse. Which only made the strong girls want to antagonize the fragile one's with more malicious intent. Luckily when I had previously been there she didn't take much notice of me, but I stayed out of harms way with her, just being quiet and observant. Being back here seemed like an eternity while I held my end of the bargain but unfortunately my Father didn't.

    The first chance I saw to run I took it. I was being sent to go get my blood and urine taken for drug and disease analysis. My driver would be a volunteer from the community and it was the perfect getaway for me. I was brought from the white solitaire room and led into the bright sun, feeling like today would be favorable in my escape. We got to the doctors office, my whereabouts told me I had plenty of ways to run and I scouted out the best looking route. My plan was to barge through the volunteer's inexperienced grip and wriggle my way out if needed, then hit the asphalt, running until my legs couldn't carry me any further. Playing it out in my mind felt different to the anticipation that led up to actually doing it. The inner-strength I had was the only thing going to help me in this circumstance.

    We arrived in the parking lot and I hadn't said a word to him the entire drive, the small framed Spanish man tried to make pleasant conversation but I couldn't see him as anything but a challenge, so I kept quiet instead, ignoring his humorous attempts to befriend me. The car pulled to a stop and he came around the side to unlock my door, this was it, "here we go" I told myself, and pushed past the volunteer. His arms grabbed out at me but only caught me by my shirt, he didn't even put up much of a struggle, like some of the other trained one's I had gotten before, they would put me into body locks of all sorts but he just tore at the collar of my shirt letting me break free. I had done this many times before so I knew I wasn't gone yet, I had to first get out of these clothes. The cops would be looking for someone of my description in the area with a blue shirt and khaki pants, so my first stop was a busy shopping complex. I took the money from my scrunchie and bought myself a pair of jeans, a shirt, and a sweater for disguise and my next stop was Dunkin Doughnuts' to get a chocolate iced doughnut and a cup of coffee.

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    Default Re: Virginia Guiffres' 'Memoirs' from the Epstein files

    (Contd.)

    I didn't have doubts about getting out of the facility but I wasn't expecting it to be so easy this time. My past excursions all began with an abrupt struggle sometimes ending in a brutal state of affairs after being pepper sprayed and fastened into some painful lock by forceful men four-times my size, then tossed into solitary until I saw my next chance to desert. I got to know the guards real well, as I spent a lot of my time being dragged down to the white room by them. There was Jim, a large black man who could've doubled for a "Miami Dolphin's" defensive linebacker. John was another big man with a ponytail and a mustache, and he looked like someone who definitely owned a Harley. The last guy Scott had a smaller build but made up for it with his steroid injected muscles bulging out of his neck and there was the added height from his curly fro.

    When they weren't restraining me and holding me captive in solitaire, they were actually pretty nice guys, not afraid to have a laugh after some explosive incident and I held no contempt towards them either, they were just doing their jobs. It was deja vu all over again, free at last but where would I go now. With Ron's scouts on the lookout for me, and now the authorities being notified I was a runaway again, I would have a lot of people searching for me, so I knew I had to be careful where I went. My last stop before leaving the shopping center was to use a payphone to call my parents, my Dad answered completely surprised to hear me on the other end, I wanted to sarcastically thank him for breaking his promise to me and I hope he is happy now, he just lost his daughter for good. I stopped to listen to what he was trying to say and he told me "I was getting you out in a few days, I found you somebody to stay with, she's a good person who has got teenagers your age, I was just trying to convince your Mother to sign the papers to get you out of there". I was so outraged at her ability to put her own wants before the needs of her own flesh and blood daughter. I told him to come pick me up and bring me to the house so I could speak with her for the first time in over a year, but if I felt threatened for one second I will be on my way quicker than a blink of an eye and on my own for good.

    He wasn't overjoyed at my proposition, knowing what position this put him in as her husband but as my father he decided to put me first for once and take me home to confront my mother. I arrived at my house for the first time in a long time and everything looked different. My parents refurnished and renovated the house. I didn't even have a room anymore, my old belongings and bed were removed and it was now the office. Of course my Mom didn't meet me at the gate or the front door like her long lost offspring reunited. No, instead she waited for me to come find her out back smoking cigarettes and having a beer. She stood up from her seat and squinted her eyes loathing in her hatred she coldly slapped me hard in the face. The slap stung, but I matched her look with a familiar stone-coldness that only she could understand.

    Immediately we both started to cry and we washed away our anguish and resentment through our tears and consolidated our feelings for the first time since the chaos first affected our lives. She didn't want to know much of my whereabouts and she still had a lot of anger to get over but she asked me to stay home at least. My little brother ran through the back door and hugged me so tight, I started to cry again and was saddened by how much time I had missed the time I had lost just hanging out with my brothers and it took me even longer to realize how precious time really is. We were never going to be the average Joes next door but at least this was better than nothing. I loved being with my family again. We had BBQ's and bon-fires with each other and life began to slowly piece back together. It was bizarre how normal it was when I first got home.

    I turned fifteen that year and it was the exact cup of tea that I had needed to boost me up and get me on the right track. I decided to go school to acquire my general education diploma or G.E.D and got a summer job with my Dad at Mar-A-Lago, Donald Trump's exclusive country club in Palm Beach. Surrounded by lush acres of tropical landscapes, manicured gardens, and a mansion made into a beach club for the rich and famous it is known as the "Jewel of Palm Beach". I was in sheer awe at the gold arched ceilings and the grandeur ballrooms. The spa where I worked was world class, not only oozing in style but in the way each and every clientele was treated with the upmost service.

    My focus was now set on becoming a massage therapist, and working my way into a luxurious spa like the one I worked for now, only I was a locker-room attendant there. I studied many books about the anatomy of the human body and how you can affect a person's well-being and health for the better through a simple healing touch. It was amazing to me the way the body responded to massage. I was more than just interested. I was determined to become a therapist. It was one of those anatomy books that I had my nose buried in one afternoon on a quiet Tuesday and it could get pretty lonely in the locker room, so if I weren't busy I'd sit outside by the spa's reception and read my books in the warmth of the Florida sun.

    A lovely looking woman in her late thirties who spoke with a proper English accent approached me. I assumed it was a general question like “Where's the ladies room” or “Who was that the famous model from so-and-so” but she was more interested in the book I was reading. Only believing at first we were just making small talk she was really intrigued at my choice of reading. She then asked if I did massage on the side, I stated I was only reading the book and had not yet began to study but one day I would love to practice massage therapy.

    She introduced herself as Ghislaine Maxwell. I would later find out that she was the daughter of the late prominent businessman and disgraced newspaper tycoon, Robert Maxwell. I told her my name is Jenna pointing to my nametag on my shirt and offered her a cold or hot beverage, as those were my instructed duties at work. She accepted a tea and went on to chat a bit about this rich guy that she worked for and she knew off-hand that he was looking for a massage therapist. Just doing me a good deed out of her kindness of her heart, I'm sure, she offered to introduce me to him. I declined her first proposition, thinking out loud, told her I didn't know the body well enough to even attempt an interview. She didn't seem worried at all by my fear of incompetence saying that if he liked me enough he would get me the best training in the industry. Ghislaine thought I had a cheery persona and fit the quota for what he was looking for and as she put it an enthusiastic learner that she said she gathered from the sticky notes popping out of the various sections in my book.

    I accepted her phone number and the house address and told her I will call her if I am able to come over after work. I rushed over to the tennis courts where my dad was working and told him of the news. We both thought this could be a wonderful opportunity to get my accreditation in massage therapy. Seeing that it was a lady in her late thirties who came off as more of a nurturer rather than a procurer, neither of us saw any reason to be hesitant.

    (End Ch. 3)
    Last edited by Bluegreen; 8th December 2019 at 17:08.

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    Default Re: Virginia Guiffres' 'Memoirs' from the Epstein files

    Chapter 4

    At around five pm my dad drove me down to the bottom of "El Brillo Way" on the Palm Beach intercoastal. We pulled into a short driveway beckoning a large pink mansion with heavy wooden doors. I was so excited about this chance and asked my dad to wish me luck. He gave me a big squeeze and wished me the best. He walked me to the front door and I rung the door chime. Moments later we were greeted by an older gentleman dressed in a casual butler uniform. I told him I was here to meet Ms. Maxwell for a massage trial and he opened the doors for my father and I telling us to wait in the entry as Ms. Maxwell would be on her way any second, and she was.

    Down the stairs she walked with a warm smile, her short black hair seeming very proper and elegant, for now. She shook my fathers hand and thanked him for bringing me and kissed us both on the cheeks. They spoke briefly about whom she worked for and about Mar-a-Lago where we worked. She was in a hurry, you could tell to end the conversation and say good-bye to my dad, which she did so ever pleasantly. She said the boss was upstairs and waiting my arrival, so with that I said bye to my dad and began to follow Ghislaine up the stairs. I was so nervous, but I didn't show it. I kept my reserve and demeanor cool as ice, trying show maturity for the open position.

    We continued on to the massage room, passing by a grand crystal chandelier, and a couple lengthy wooden hall tables displaying a multitude of photos displaying young girls and beautiful women, trying not to gawk at them I didn't even notice that some of those girls were only wearing their smile. Ghislaine asked me how my day at work was and I told her it was easy peasy as always just trying to make simple conversation. There was a fork at the end of the staircase and she led me to the right hand side. The lights were dimmed in the bedroom but I could still see the King Size bed in the middle of room, we did a U-turn around the bed, which led us into a massage room.

    Dripping in luxury I could've definitely compared it to the renowned Mar-a-Lago's spas, it had marble walls and a glass enclosed shower and self-automated steam room at the very end of the Burberry carpeted room. There was a large mirror over a basin to the right of the room with an array of oils, ointments, soaps, and lotions and a small closed door, which I assumed must be a closet. The only thing that struck awkward about this room was the naked man laying face down atop of the turquoise massage table in the center of it. "I had to be prepared for this," I told myself.

    Massage was something I had never done before so I quickly brushed away my thoughts of possible schemes, wanting to believe whole-heartedly this was going to be legit. Ghislaine introduced us to each other and I proceeded to make his acquaintance. Looking up at from his downwards position, he looked me over and gave a smile to Ghislaine, an obvious notion of his approval. He was Jeffrey Epstein as she pronounced for him, as if I supposed to recognize his name or something. He affirmed, "It was his pleasure" and replied to just call him Jeffrey, "No need for formalities" he answered, cleverly putting me at ease.

    This man did not look like someone to beware of. Both him and Ghislaine appeared to be very nice people and conscious of their health as their need for massages and spa visits, no alarm bells went off, yet. I was prepped by Ghislaine to "treat this as a lesson from her and follow her exact lead, if I did good tonight then maybe I would become Jeffrey's Traveling Masseuse, seeing the world and getting paid well for it".

    I was very hopeful, a job like this could really make my dreams come true. I followed suit and washed my hands with warm water so the coldness would not shock Jeffery's naked body, then lathered them in rich body butter. Ghislaine told me to always keep one hand on Jeffrey, even when getting more lotion, so it didn't make him lose concentration on being relaxed. She gave me a tip and told me to keep a blob of lotion high up on my forearm so it prevented me from having to keep going back for more and was less disruptive to Jeffrey. This all seemed for real to begin with, I was being educated about the body and splitting Jeffrey's body with Ghislaine, mimicking her every motion.

    Starting with his feet, we began with his heels and arches of his soles. Pushing the blood up his calves in upward strokes to rejuvenate the body's blood supply and being careful to mind his leg hair didn't pull. I was keeping up with her and enjoying the education. It was so interesting how the body worked and I couldn't believe I was learning all of this for free. Once I got a bit of a groove following Ghislaine, they began asking me all sorts of questions about my past and it didn't take long before the conversation led down the darker experiences of my young life. When they found out that I hadn't led much of a normal existence they only probed me with more questions, which being put on the spot answered honestly.

    The funny thing was they didn't seem appalled at all by my statements, rather entertained if anything. Jeffrey called me a "naughty-girl" with that wry smile of his, and half playful and half defensive, I answered "no I'm not, I'm really a good girl, just always in the wrong places" he then replied, "It's O.K, I like naughty girls" and rolled over onto his front side to expose his complete nude self.

    He wasn't the first man to show me his penis, so I wasn't shocked at the appearance of his manhood but I was incredibly shocked at his complete ease to present himself with an erection. I tried to ignore it waiting to follow the next directions off of Ghislaine, who surprisingly now stood behind me bare breasted. Before I had a chance to even think of replying hastily she began to slowly undress me, while Jeffrey started to stroke his manhood while watching us. She unbuttoned my blouse and removed my bra, revealing my bosoms. Cupping them in her hands she moved her lips across my nipples, licking and teasing them with her tongue making them cold and stiff. Next her hands moved down to my little white skirt, removing the final piece of my remaining uniform. She slid my skirt down my legs with ease, for a moment keeping on my love-heart panties, so they could both take notice of my apparent youth. They even snickered to each other about" How cute she still wears little girl pantie's" Jeffrey said, and Ghislaine joined in his laughter.

    Acting as my madam, she instructed me to start by licking his nipples and after I had sufficiently pleasured both of them, then prompted me to go down on Jeffery orally while she rubbed her breasts along his body tantalizingly. She moved behind me again this time to remove my panties and start fondling the delicate folds between my legs. I was still in shock from the initial degrading blow. I hadn't even let the reality sink in, it was all too much for me to emotionally handle so instead I hid behind my fears, which I told myself "I wasn't going to ever be worth anything at all and this would probably be as good as it gets for me" after all I thought, “what have I been trained up for until now".
    Last edited by Bluegreen; 8th December 2019 at 17:11.

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    Default Re: Virginia Guiffres' 'Memoirs' from the Epstein files

    (Contd.)

    Nobody ever stopped to ask if I was comfortable or if I wanted to stop, no, instead, Ghislaine only directed me to conclude the massage session by climbing up on the table to be fixated on Jeffrey, straddling him so he could penetrate me. When it was all done and over with, I was taken into the steam room with just Jeffrey to get further acquainted, as Ghislaine left the room to go get dressed. He asked me to grab his feet and rub them not saying a word about what just happened, like it was all normal and accepted. I listened to him ramble on about the health benefits of a sauna and the history of it, ignoring the fact of the matter of his pretentiousness degrading my spirit. I figured I had gone too far already, what would be the point in throwing in the towel now after I had done exactly what these people wanted.

    Whilst we were sweating out our bodies' toxins, and the steam was blasting my burning face I listened to his lessons, entertaining his ego, I let him become my teacher, he seemed to like that. He sounded like a very clever and intelligent man though. Telling me his story of how he made himself an empire of billions from being a middle-class professor to an elite financial advisor for clientele with only billions in their bank accounts and through his so-called "lessons", He became my mentor and I emerged as his pupil, the teacher's pet. After the sauna we went to the next glass door beside us where the shower was. He turned tap outwards and stood underneath the water as I stood naked and cold from the temperature difference. Instead of asking me to join him under the warm stream, like I thought he was going to, he handed me a bar of soap and asked me to wash his body from top to toe.

    It didn't stop there, I had to massage the shampoo and conditioner into his scalp as well. I was bewildered someone would ask this off of someone else, wasn't it belittling enough having to endure the illicit massage from beforehand but now this. The surprises kept coming that night, as this was definitely not how I expected my interview to turn out, but that's what I had learned in my short time on this earth, life was full of disappointment. I let everyone else take the power of authority from myself and use me in whatever way he or she wanted instead of standing up and giving myself the respect I deserved, which in turn would've helped me get through life without all of the abuse I ended up copping.

    Not given the belief in myself from an early age on I suppose is what affected my sense of control. Always letting the ones with power and strength reduce my inner-self to shreds until I was cut so tiny in size I would be completely subdued to only their wants and needs left ignoring mine. The men I had encountered in my short experience with them only repeated their inflictions convincing me there was no running away from the sick world I lived in, not yet understanding it all came down to the choices I had made for myself. I needed some encouragement and the right words to unlock my very soul.

    Jeffrey told me the towels were on the heated rack just outside the shower and asked me to get one and pat him down. Again putting himself first as I sat there freezing while I compliantly patted down his body with the white fluffy towel until he was dried. I nearly expected him to ask me to dress him as well, but not surprisingly that came later down the track too. I dried myself off and wiped the make-up from under my eye's, keeping quiet not sure what to really say and half-embarrassed from the entire evening's events that just took place. I just remained silent whilst we both got dressed until he brought me downstairs where Ghislaine was sitting at a desk holding his black leather duffel bag. When she moved from the chair to let Jeffrey sit down, she passed him the bag and began to tell me that I had great potential to be a massage therapist, they really liked my style and who knows where this could lead too. She asked to see me again tomorrow, same time after work.

    He opened the bag, revealing stacks of brand-new hundred dollar bills separated with rubber bands to count by the thousands. He grabbed one stack and took out two crisp notes, placing them in my hand. He laughed that it was nearly my whole week's wage at Mar-A-Lago. Only there I didn't have to degrade myself as his new little toy.

    When I got home my parents were anticipating my arrival. I kept it simple and sweet with my folks, only telling them of the lessons about the body I had received and the future prospects in massage therapy that lie ahead. Nobody questioned who I was working for and complimented my ability to be a hard worker. I quickly got out of that conversation afraid I might give away a hint of shame in my eyes but no one caught on. I excused myself to the bathroom to have a shower and stared into the mirror for a moment, asking myself if I could really go through with this only to mentally respond by reminding myself this would be as good as it gets for a girl of my stature and limitations.

    I scrubbed myself rigidly in the shower as if it would wash away the filthiness of the night, but it didn't help, I could still feel their hands in me and all over me and inside of me. Trying to sleep that night was nearly impossible too, closing my eyes only to drift away to flashbacks of the moments I had to give myself to Jeffrey and Ghislaine, each replay an exploitation of my vulnerability. The next morning I awoke feeling anxious about the day ahead, trying to push yesterday's memory from my thoughts, I was quiet for the whole trip to work with my Dad. Before we got out of his car in the parking lot he asked me if everything was okay, I lied, for his sake and mine.

    (Contd.)
    Last edited by Bluegreen; 8th December 2019 at 17:12.

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    Default Re: Virginia Guiffres' 'Memoirs' from the Epstein files

    (Contd.)

    My life was being transformed and I didn't even know it yet, but soon enough I would be a brainwashed tool only used for the sexual pleasure of others, about to be entrapped in the same life I had broken free from only months ago. Convincing myself in order to succeed I had to step up from being a girly teenager and start thinking like a young woman, it would be my ticket to a great career and a fortunate life. I told myself "So what if I had to bargain my body to this rich old geezer, some girls get themselves through college by becoming a stripper and using their bodies to pay for degrees, others go down even worse paths." I guess it was just another way to fathom the road I was going down, the effectiveness of the lies I forced myself to believe was working as I continued to tell myself I had to make it any way I could rather than ever letting myself sleep on the streets again. I was trading one shocking lifestyle for another, thinking I was choosing the right one.

    If I could go back in time to ever meet myself I would choose this time in my life. I'd start with a good hard smack to my head to first shake some things up in there and next I would tell that girl she could actually make it on her own if she just worked hard at earning an honest wage and built her life up slowly. There is no rush or time limit to ever stop reaching for achievement. Sadly enough I probably wouldn't of even believed myself anyways, learning my life's hard lessons through the experiences I continued to suffer. I went to work at Mar-A-Lago that day trying hard not to think of what lay ahead in the afternoon too come, but the later the hour got the more distinguished the knots became in my stomach.

    I spoke to no one of the details to my explicit interview but told one girl how I was so happy I was now officially studying massage therapy, another lie. My friend was surprised and intrigued that these people who could afford the best of the best of therapists in the world chose an untrained fifteen-year-old girl to perform a massage. She never said it in words, but her body language told me she knew exactly why they wanted to use me and it wasn't for a therapeutic reason either and deep down inside I understood.

    The rest of the afternoon slipped away quickly and before I knew it I was standing before those large wooden doors again, giving a moments pause but long enough to draw in my breath and exhale some of the anxiety before ringing the doorbell. Juan answered the door again and told me Ghislaine would be down in a few moments and asked to follow him into the kitchen. There was a pleasant looking young girl with blonde spirals in her hair that glanced up from the mound of paperwork before her. Her shocking blue eye's and appealing English accent seemed delightful and she introduced herself as "Emmy", Ghislaine's Personal Assistant. I introduced myself as "Jenna" which is what most people knew me as and told her I was on an employment trial to become Jeffrey's massage therapist. She had a coy smile on her face that told me she knew exactly what I was on trial for. Something in my gut told me this wasn't the first time a young girl had been trialed for the same position I was about to fill.

    We were only chatting for a moment before Ghislaine appeared and told me Jeffrey was ready for his massage. I was led through the extensively large house to the winding staircase that would lead me up to the same dreaded room where I would have to re-enact last night's performance. I wasn't far from wrong. I gave Jeffrey a massage with Ghislaine leading the way again, this time we surprisingly made it to the front of his body and she continued to show me how to massage all the way up to his stomach pushing my hands in a spiraling clockwise circular motion to not disrupt the bowels and then we came up to his chest. He couldn't dare contain himself for one second longer, telling me to put my lips on his nipples and give them a kiss. Jeffrey moaned in pleasure and Ghislaine started to undress me from behind. Within moments I was completely naked and Ghislaine had her top off. She was caressing my body with her hands while Jeffrey moved his hands down to stroke his loins while he watched her and I kiss and touch each other.

    I didn't know if she was doing this for the sake of his eye-candy but she sure did act like she loved having the control over me telling me what to do throughout the entire threesome. Jeffrey's climax was always the end to our sessions and this time he wanted to have me make him orgasm orally. Afterwards we went for the ritualistic steam-room, this time Ghislaine joining in with us for conversation. She asked me to massage her feet this time while we were in the steam room, showing me that Jeffrey wasn't the only one I had pay my homage to. We all had a shower next and then we all went downstairs to pay me and have Juan drop me off back home.

    The following afternoon I received a call at work, surprisingly it was Ghislaine asking me to come over when I got off of work again. The compliant side took over and I told her I looked forward to meeting with them today, instead of telling her to go screw herself for lying to me and making me degrade myself more each time I saw them. I finished work for the day and my Dad brought me over to El Brillo Way again, where the vultures were patiently waiting in their lair, he wished me well as I hopped out of his big truck, looking ever so much like his little girl again. I gave him a smile and a wave as he drove down the long driveway, waiting for him to suddenly tum back and not leave me alone to my task. I shook myself out of that calamity and put on my "big girls" face.

    Juan brought me to the kitchen again as I waited for Ghislaine. He offered me a cold drink and some fruit on a platter, I accepted and was grateful for the rejuvenation before I went to work again. It wasn't long before Ghislaine approached me from behind with a cold intense look in her eye. I jumped from my seat, feeling like maybe I shouldn't have been eating and drinking while on the job, as her demeanor seemed annoyed and temperamental in the seconds that she appeared. She told me I would be on my own today as she had business to attend to, so make sure I remembered what she had taught me, as my trial depended on it.

    (End Ch. 4)
    Last edited by Bluegreen; 8th December 2019 at 17:14.

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    Default Re: Virginia Guiffres' 'Memoirs' from the Epstein files

    Chapter 5

    I walked up the stairs by myself this time, taking in more of the decor, noticing the more I looked around the more I noticed a different girl in each photograph in his collection of half-nude and topless girls on display around his mansion. I couldn't believe how many girls there were, it's not like Jeffrey was much to look at. He was an aging man in his early fifties with shiny grey hair and characteristic lines drawn down his face as if he had seen harder days. With no prospects of ever settling down or having a family of his own, Jeffrey treated us girls like a piece of clothing he could try on for the day and get rid of the next. So why was there so many girls in these photos? I wondered to myself if I would end up one of those girls among his collection of forgotten relationships and broken promises.

    I continued to make my way up the stairs, and as if all of my senses were heightened from my bare nerves being exposed, I could smell the cleaning detergents recently used by the housekeepers, my observations of the shade of lighting through the concealed blinds as I entered Jeffrey's bedroom appeared golden, and the sound of stillness except for the thud of my rapid beating heart all made me more aware of how nervous I was to be on my own. Not that Ghislaine was anything of a comfort, but I didn't know what to expect or how I was going to lead myself into upholding my obligation in pleasing him. I would hope for the best I thought, trying to uplift my confidence as I opened the door to the massage room with the typical scene of Jeffrey laying naked facedown in the massage bed waiting for his entertainment.

    It was deja vu all over again. Repeating what Ghislaine had taught me, with him commenting on what else I should be doing, until it got to the end and I was expected to grant him all of his spoken desires. We finished up with the shower again and he seemed very pleased in my contribution of myself to him, giving in to every request. He told me to go ask Juan to pay me, as he was lethargic after the massage and intimate affair between us and now was going to have sleep. I walked back down stairs and told Juan that Jeffrey was asleep and said I had to ask him for my pay. He went to Jeffrey's desk and took out the exact amount 1 was owed without even asking how much I normally get paid. He then drove me home, only to be back the next afternoon.

    The following week was a daily routine, providing Jeffrey with massages and continuously being groomed to fulfill all his needs. Often joined by Ms. Maxwell and her assistant Emmy for sexual trysts of all kinds. I was mentally and physically exhausted from the week of working and having to keep up with Jeffrey's strenuous late night activities. I couldn't believe what I was doing but it was all starting to sink in fast. Most nights when I got home, I'd briefly say "Hi" to Mom and Dad before heading straight to my bedroom. I couldn't even sleep well anymore. Closing my eyes at night I would fight the inevitable flood of thoughts, replaying the moments of shame that ate away myself piece by piece. My only reasoning being I just had to keep telling myself it would all be worth it in the end.

    This afternoon Ghislaine appeared to be in a much better mood. Instead of taking me straight up to Jeffrey she took me to a yellow guest room where Emmy mostly stayed. It had a balcony where Emmy was already outside reading a magazine and puffing on a cigarette. Ghislaine lit one up too and then offered me one. I hadn't smoked cigarettes much before, besides trying to look cool in front of one of my friends, but never really took to them, so when I started to cough from the inhalation of smoke, the girls began to laugh and joke about my inexperience. It was an icebreaker for all of us to laugh and poke fun at me. I was then able to give it back to them saying I would rather be an inexperienced non-smoker than an old lady with a raspy smokers cough. I don't think Ghislaine was used to somebody giving it back to her, but she seemed to like it, as long as she was able to have the last say. I knew my boundaries and she liked that I wouldn't cross those invisible lines. All three of us chatted like friends and it started to feel like some kind of a strange relationship was budding.

    After about fifteen minutes of chatting away, Ghislaine instructed me to wash my hands thoroughly, as Jeffrey hated the smell of smokers, and to follow her down the hallway to the massage room where he'll be expecting me shortly. I did what she asked and sprayed myself with the body spray that I always carried in my purse and headed down the hall to Jeffrey's room. When I opened the door to the massage room surprisingly it was empty. I sat down on the already made up massage table and was careful not to mess up the neatly folded towels on the end of the bed.

    It was a good fifteen more minutes before Jeffrey made his appearance. It was strange seeing him in clothes for the first time. He wasn't wearing what you'd expect your typical billionaire's attire to be. He was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a Harvard sweatshirt, which he began to remove immediately. This time he wanted to commence our session in the steam room, so I began to undress as well. We went into the steam room and he pushed a few buttons and the steam began to pour in from the marble wall's built in jets. There was a bench coming out of the wall also made out of marble that went from either side of the room and had a step underneath it where I was instructed to sit on so that I could begin giving Jeffery his massage.

    Our conversation started off about simple things like how was your day at work, and I asked Jeffrey how his day was lounging around, just being polite to each other. He was acting out of character being a lot more attentive and conversing with me about other things than sex or massages for once. Starting with his heels, ankles, toes and arches in the soles of his feet I massaged all the way up to his calves. it took a lot more strength to massage in the steam room without oils or lotions and the constant blowing of steam in your face making me twice as exerted.

    I was beginning to really start to heat up when the door to the room suddenly opened to reveal two naked women. Ghislaine and Emmy acted as if they came in to join us for a steam bath, but my instincts were telling me otherwise. At least the cold burst of air and escaped steam revived me a bit. So there was Jeffrey and Ghislane sitting on top of this marble bench, each with a young girl at their feet. Emmy and I continued with the massage until they were ready to head into the shower. There were two showerheads that Ghislaine and Jeffrey both stood under while they were being lathered with soap bubbles as we washed their bodies.

    After the shower Ghislaine led us into Jeffrey's bed to finish today's session with Emmy, Ghislaine and I performing lesbian acts of foreplay on each other while Jeffrey laid back and watched. Stroking his manhood in much delight, he brought himself to climax, and the session was over within moments. We all got dressed and went downstairs to the kitchen for some refreshments. Like nothing had happened at all, it was all so bizarre for me, the whole ordeal with them since this all began. I couldn't understand why Ghislaine and Jeffrey had such an openly intimate relationship but yet never regarded themselves as partners. They rarely kissed and never held hands or even slept in the same bed. It was more like a sexual arrangement between the two of them. She brings in the girls for his peculiar taste and he supplies the lavish lifestyle she was accustomed too before her family lost all of their fortunes. I wasn't sure how to act or feel, always obliging to their needs but reserved enough not to get attached, as if there was this invisible hierarchy and by instinct I knew my place.

    We all hung out in the kitchen for a while before I asked when Juan could bring me home as I had work in the morning and was tired. They said no problem and called Juan on the intercom right away, but said we'd all have something to talk about tomorrow. I knew it had something to do with my employment trial and from the way they were acting tonight, I could only assume I got the job, but you never know with these types of people. Their friendships and partnerships can change like the weather.
    Last edited by Bluegreen; 8th December 2019 at 17:17.

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    Default Re: Virginia Guiffres' 'Memoirs' from the Epstein files

    (Contd.)

    I went home that night still confused on how I could let myself sink so low, I had to put on an act like I enjoyed submitting my body and being their new subservient plaything all for the fact that I was making anywhere between $200-$400 for just a couple of hours. Then spent the rest of the night regressing on the entire event in my head over and over again. I battled those thoughts with the hope that I was receiving a profession out of this and making good money in the meantime. All I had to do was keep lying to myself long enough until I eventually believed it. Arriving at Jeffrey's on time the next afternoon, as I always did, understanding punctuality was a sign of respect and I wanted them to feel as if they had my deepest appreciation for the once in a lifetime chance they had given to a girl of my history.

    This time when Juan answered the door he told me Mr Epstein and Ms Maxwell were waiting for me upstairs in the massage room. I began my hike up the familiar spiraling staircase and through to the room where my arrival was being deeply anticipated. They were already in the steam room awaiting me to join them. I undressed out of my uniform and folded them in a neat pile, which I placed upon the marble basin. Having one last look in the mirror before I exhaling a deep breath as if I was plunging into deep water, I knew today was a big day. I either accepted their offer and trade my morals for opportunity, or walk away with the prospect of one day many years from now trying to make it on my own which I knew endowed hardships of there own.

    So confused about what decision to make, I just opened the door to the steam room and let them do the talking. Used to the routine by now I sat below Jeffrey and began to massage his feet and legs as I listened in on their ongoing conversation about travel plans for the next few weeks. Ghislaine and Jeffrey turned their attention to me and he asked me how would I like to go see the big city of Manhattan. I told them I had never visited New York before and it sounded like an adventure but my job at Mar-A-Lago was only a summer job and wouldn't be able to get the time off, especially that summer was so busy anyways.

    Jeffrey then made his announcement, that I should just quit my job at Mar-a-Lago and become his permanent traveling masseuse. He then further persuaded me with all of the luxuries that came along with my acceptance. Rather than being paid $9 dollars per hour at my current job I could be earning $200 dollars per massage, which he even said could be a few times a day. Tomorrow we could be leaving Palm Beach together in his private jet first heading to his residence in the upper east side of Manhattan, also the largest mansion in N.Y, and would next be setting off to the Caribbean, where he owned a secluded island just past Little St. James for a bit of relaxation.

    The temptation of his grandeur offer wasn't hard to give into, my vulnerability to be lewd into his grasp seemed comforting at the time. The idea that females were nothing more than an empty shell of beauty bound by only a body to offer was a notion I had accepted a long time ago with my first teacher, Ron. My reaction had to be more than amusing for their egos, even though I was excited to be traveling I could only imagine the likeliness of having to be at their beck and call as well. In my head I just told myself we all do what we have to do in our lives to succeed no matter what it takes, and with no one knowing the truth, I had no one to talk me out of it.

    I accepted his offer and knew from here on out 1 would be his servant to his sexual desires until one day I would gain my credentials and only then could I go out on my own and make it in this world that when so young seems so unconquerable. The night advanced into the usual grooming of his requirements, for the next hour and a half being exploited to satisfy Jeffrey's every sexual whim.

    My mom cornered me that night, before I had a chance to avoid speaking to anyone, heading to the shower then my bedroom, like I had been the last week. She knocked at my door with a hostile look in her eyes, " Virginia, what exactly does an older couple want with a fifteen year old girl, who has no credentials and with no experience in massage therapy?" She used that stern tone of voice that she's always had, when I was in trouble. Thus, as impressionable as I was, my blue eyes batted their innocence in her direction and I flashed her a girlish grin selling her the pitch that I had been given earlier that night. Not mentioning the other side to the glamorous lifestyle I would soon be living in. I told her about the money I'd be earning, the places I'd be seeing, the people I could meet and most of all the trade I'd be learning.

    It all sounded so good, except it was a bunch of lies I had to tell her and myself to otherwise convince us, that this was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and I had to take it. She asked when all of this would start, and I as shocking as it was to me too, I told her I had to go start packing. We were leaving the next morning off to NYC. At fifteen most girls would be sucking up to their parents to go to a high-school dance or to go on a date to the movies with a nervous chap, but I wasn't even asking her. I was simply letting her know that I would be away for the next couple weeks, maybe three and would keep in contact when I got free time. Her daughter was lost a long time ago, and she just now realized it. Backing out of the bathroom, with nothing she could say, she left me wondering to myself who I was becoming. Instead of driving me to work the next morning my Dad dropped me off at Jeffrey's mansion, he told me not to worry about calling Mar-A-Lago, he'd take care of it for me. We said our good-byes outside in the driveway, Jeffrey even coming outside to meet with my father to shake his hands and assure him that his daughter will be more than looked after. I hugged my dad tightly, feeling like I was on the verge of a steep cliff, when he let go, so did the last of my innocence.

    Juan drove Jeffrey, Ghislaine and I to Palm Beaches' Private Airport and the luggage handlers escorted us on the tarmac where we all boarded on Jeffrey's black jet. Larry was his main pilot, he had shiny grey hair and long lanky legs, but a very sincere smile that instantly made you feel at ease. He greeted us at the staircase that led into the main cabin. It was as lavish as I imagined it would be. The seats were enveloped in the finest beige leather with polished wood grain finishes and there was a kitchen in the back with an adjoining toilet.

    Jeffrey saw the amazement in my eyes and to make it more thrilling he brought me up to the cockpit and let me watch with a bird's eye view of the take off. I was on a natural high when I came back to the cabin and was instantly brought back down when Jeffrey rested his bare feet on top of the reclined seat and instructed me to get to work and start massaging him. My future was in his hands now, so when he wanted something, I wouldn't hesitate in giving it to him.

    (End Ch. 5)
    Last edited by Bluegreen; 8th December 2019 at 17:19.

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    Default Re: Virginia Guiffres' 'Memoirs' from the Epstein files

    Chapter 6

    Upon our arrival at New Jersey's Private Airstrip, the driver Jo-Jo met us. His name was most likely shortened for something of his oriental decent. Jeffrey liked to shorten the names of his multi-cultural staff into American names. Even Juan and Maria were known as John and Mary. We arrived in the Upper East Side of Manhattan. His principal place of residence was the largest home in Manhattan, eight stories of opulence. It used to be a Private School for boys many years ago, until Les Wexner, Jeffrey's best friend and mentor bought it for him as a mysterious gift.

    There were two large Chinese gargoyles outside the entrance, and beside the heavy looking wooden doors there was an intercom with a camera overlooking us. I walked up the concrete steps into a realm of wealth, glamour and most of all influence. My eye's glistened at the splendor of his palace. Caramel colored marble tiles spread through the first floor, where his gourmet kitchen and dining hall were also located. Then I came to this sweeping staircase that curved into the next level where Jeffrey and I went into his office, even though it looked more like a museum exhibit. Ancient draperies that told lascivious stories of their own covered parts of the elevated walls, and the remaining wall spaces were taken up by rows on top of rows of books. He loved to read, as he often found it hard to sleep and was comforted in the early morning hours with his literature, or sometimes in other ways, as I would come to find out.

    There was a mantle piece and a sofa with two armchairs next to the grand piano that flaunted more of Jeffrey's beautiful conquests, young women posing in salacious pictures, suggesting I could be easily replaced next to one of those girls if I failed in keeping him satisfied. There were also some pictures with recognizable political and royal figures either shaking Jeffrey's hand, or with an arm around each other, even one with Jeffrey and the Dali Lama, although his church was the bank.

    He liked to use his power, wealth, and money to manipulate everyone in his life. He made a phone call that sounded business like and I didn't mind, I was quite enjoying taking in all of the beauty around me, I was blinded by all of it. I was still waiting for him when, Ghislaine came in. She asked me what I thought so far of my trip to N.Y.C, I knew she was talking about the house, she loved to gloat, even though none of it actually belonged to her, she wanted everyone to believe that it did. I complimented her on the mid-evil looking tapestries and a few other adornments, when she cut me off mid-sentence to compliment it herself, telling me the history about one of the 17th century tapestries which to an unsophisticated eye, looked to me like a rug on the wall.

    Jeffrey hung the phone up and walked over to the sofa where we were sitting next to the mantle piece and took a seat on one of the armchairs. He didn't seem worried from the phone call but his mind was definitely somewhere else from the hard look on his face. We all spoke for a few moments more about the splendid decor before Jeffrey had enough small talk and needed some of his own relaxation time. He told Ghislaine he was going to show me to the massage room and he'd be back in a couple hours. She agreed he looked like he could use some time to unwind and with that wry grin of hers, she gave me a look that told me precisely how he was expecting to be relaxed.

    We left his office all together, Ghislaine going downstairs, and Jeffrey showing me to the lifts. The lift looked like it's original that came with the school. It was made out of brass antique with archaic cuts throughout the arches at the top. It wasn't the only lift in the house, but certainly the most beautiful. We walked down a long hall carpeted in a royal red and golden trim, passing by a bronze pagan statue of the horny little goat God "Pan". How adequate, I thought, it fits Jeffrey to a tee. We walked into this dimly lit room. Another daunting chamber that looked like we had stepped back in time to the dark ages. It took a second for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, and Jeffrey beckoned me to follow him through the room to the open adjoin shower, toilet and steam room. The room was in black marble to accent the dreariness, and smaller than the one in Palm Beach, but it had it's own witchery feel to it. Another unseen side to this Man I was coming to know.

    We both undressed and I followed Jeffrey into the steam room first. He loved feeling clean, teaching me that the steam would deplete the toxins from your skin, which was great during a massage when your blood flow is being replenished. I grabbed his foot out of instinct, knowing I had to be constantly on alert to keep this man satisfied. He looked down at me with a nod and reclined back against the wall as the steam pored in, this was his idea of alleviation. I worked up to his calves and within a few more minutes, he said he was ready for his massage on the bed. We got out and towel dried off, both still nude, he asked me to stay undressed, then we headed to massage bed in the middle of the room. He lay down on the bed and told me to turn on the CD player on the wall hutch, where all of the oils and lotions were set out. I hit play and a collection of mixed classical symphonies began to fill the silence. I could tell he wasn't in one of those moods to be uplifted with idle chat, so I remained silent, letting him enjoy my slow movements, making my way up his body.

    My instincts told me I was right about his mood, as he seemed to appreciate the quietness of moment and the leisurely of the strokes I was using to massage him. When I got to his scalp he turned over, and grabbed my hand to put on his erect manhood. No words spoken yet, I took the gesture and initiated what I had been taught over the last week. While pleasing my master his hands groped my young flesh, penetrating my insides with his fingers, he was only concerned with what he wanted, as if I was a new car out for a test drive and he was pressing his new gadgets.

    His soft moans were soon brought to louder heaves of breath and my job was done. No intimate kisses, or sweet pillow talk. He showed his appreciation with money, never attachment. We concluded with a shower and he told me he had some business to conduct. He walked me to the lift and told me go to the next level and my room was the first one on the right, it had an intercom in which he can contact me when needed. I hit number 5 on the lift and took his directions to my room. I opened the door to this massive loft, the size of an adequate house. I walked down the long hall and my eyes took in the magnificence of my surroundings.

    It was a room fit for royalty, and later would find out had been stayed in by some. The room was trimmed in gold paint and had another eerie tapestry on the main wall as feature. There was a T.V and a huge king sized bed, with goose feathered comforter and pillows. All of the glitter from Jeffrey's lifestyle he was offering me finally covered the last bit of sight I had left and I let go of my consciousness. Excited by my enthralling day, not having anyone around to have to act reserved, I jumped into the soft bed and lay looking around, thinking about how quick life could change based upon one swift decision.

    (Contd.)
    Last edited by Bluegreen; 8th December 2019 at 17:21.

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    Default Re: Virginia Guiffres' 'Memoirs' from the Epstein files

    (Contd.)

    The intercom buzzed on the telephone next to the bed and it was a housemaid letting me know Jeffrey wanted to see me in his office now. "Already" I thought to myself, I was just getting settled in. I was worried I was going to get lost in this ancient museum, but I got myself back to his office with no trouble, it was kind of hard to miss. I knocked at the slightly ajar door and Jeffrey called for me to enter. I walked over to his desk, where he was just ending a phone call and he opened his duffel bag full of money.

    ''I'll be out at my other office for most of the day, so instead of being locked inside I thought you should go do some sightseeing for the day since it is your first trip to the Big Apple."

    He didn't count how much he was giving me, he just handed me a bundle out of the banded $100 dollar bills. He knew just how pull the right strings, making me squeal in delight and give him a kiss in the cheek, since we were never really emotionally intimate, it would be odd to act in any other way, but he seemed to like it. I ran upstairs to get dressed for "City" shopping and put my make-up on, then hit the streets of NYC, looking for a place to start spending this load of cash.

    When I got to the end of 72nd street on 5th Avenue, I had no idea which way to turn, left or right. I thought I'd just follow the lights past Central Park and see the local sights on my way. My eyes were once again peeled back in splendor. I had never imagined a place so busy with the hustle and bustle of all the walks of life. My first stop was to buy a disposable camera and I was off taking photos of every wonder that caught my attention. I didn't do much shopping as I had planned to; I was having too much fun exploring this capacious metropolitan.

    When it started to hit dusk I began walking back to Jeffrey's but not before stopping off to enjoy a giant slice of pepperoni pizza, it was the best I had ever had, and considering I was going back to Jeffrey's chickpea and tofu salad's or such. I really hated the healthy cuisine served by Jeffrey's personal chef. I was a naturally skinny girl, never watching what I ate and to eat that food I might as well have chewed on hay. I strolled back to Jeffrey's and was missed.

    Ghislaine scolded me: "You shouldn't have been gone so long young lady", "We need to know where you are at all times, you are on call for Jeffrey" I started to apologize, feeling guilty, I didn't want them to think I didn't take my job with them seriously. She cut off my explanation with a short conclusion to this conversation "We will get you a cell phone tomorrow, so we can always find you". I thanked her for her generosity, and she dismissed me to my room. So I wasn't even needed after all, it was just a way for her to place me deeper in their control.

    The next few days I was on call, as Ghislaine said I'd be. Venturing out to the city for only an hour or so at a time, I looked most forward to my outings. [ would return to Jeffrey's mansion to attend to his sexual desires and when he was finished with me, I'd be off to my adventures. On the day before we were to be heading back to Palm Beach, Jeffrey had a new proposition for me. I could make double the money I was making, if! I would look for pretty girls and convince them to come back to Jeffrey's to be further persuaded with money to engage in bi-sexual and sexual acts with Jeffrey and I.

    I asked him how does one actually propose such a thing to a complete stranger? "Well" he said in a build up to another kind of lesson. "If I were you I would use your charm to entice them and my money to bring them, I would tell them you work for a multi-billionaire who has a taste for young, beautiful girls and with his contacts in the acting, modeling, or rich husband world, your boss could help them. All they have to do is come meet me first."

    If! I wasn't so naive at the time I would've seen that's exactly what he was doing with me, my prospects were massage credentials, but with too much pain from my past, I could only have hope. Not that I was a shy girl, but picking up girls for one reason alone, only to be endorsed for her body, didn't sound like something I could do. But not wanting to displease my master, I told him that I would give it a go. You could tell he was instantly excited with my agreement, he started to reveal the politics of what kind of girls he was looking for. He wasn't into multi-cultural girls, a very chauvinistic perception; he said they had to be uniquely gorgeous to be accepted by him, but definitely no African-American girls, he was racist against anything different to his kind, a very narrow minded way of thinking for such a supposed brilliant man.

    The list went on and on. No girls with tattoos or piercings, or gothics, no drug users, or prostitutes. Basically he wanted everyone's daughter that looked like the girl next door, with blue eyes and blonde curly ringlets. I just nodded and smiled, wanting this to be over with and move on to another conversation, but so worked up from our previous talk, instead he persisted to show me exactly what I was good for to him. He took me up to the highest loft in his large mansion and he lay down on his large bed, expecting me to know exactly what he wanted done. As always, I complied. Part of me hating him for having to degrade myself to be so subservient to his sexual whims, and another part of me was telling myself to be grateful for the opportunities I was being given.

    The battles in my head were beginning to cause me too much anxiety, when we got back to Palm Beach, I asked my Mom to make me a doctor's appointment for some headaches I had been getting lately, so she wouldn't question me. I walked out of the doctor's with a prescription for a mind-altering anxiety tablet called "Xanax", not only did it help with anxiety but it also acted as blanket over terrible memories. So when I had to perform degrading acts, I would take a few pills and forget what happened within the next hour and be able to become someone without a battling conscious. I spent my sweet 16th birthday on his island in the Caribbean next to "St. James Isle" he liked to call it "Little St. Jeffs", his ego was as enormous as his appetite for fornicating. I was given a birthday cake and a new collection of designer make-up from London. Ghislaine made a joke after I blew out my array of candles and said, ''I'd be soon getting too old for Jeffrey's taste, and soon they'd have to trade me in." She was only half joking in a sad reality though.

    A few days after my birthday, a girl was flying out to the island to join us for a few days before flying back to N.Y.C. I was introduced to a pretty girl a few years my senior, named Sarah. She had long ash blonde hair and big brown eyes that hinted she had a cheeky nature. She had known Jeffrey before I had, and he was supposedly trying to help her get an acting job in L.A. She was obviously accustomed to the lifestyle he provided her, making it ever so apparent with her prompt attention she lavished on him. She would do things like strip nude and bathe around the swimming pool, taunting him for sex. She was good at what she did, even putting me at ease with her cool persona and funny jokes. Jeffrey told me privately that she was one of his best at procuring young girls into her entrapment and delivering them to him when he was in town, and when it came to time in the private chambers with Jeffrey, Her and I, it wasn't hard to comprehend. She was devoted to the moment, giving Jeffrey every imaginable lustful desire he could fathom.

    On the last night there we all took a trip over to St. James to go for a stroll, odd I thought, it was past 7pm and Jeffrey rarely strayed out past then, unless it was some event or dinner party. While Ghislaine and him looked the average couple strolling arm in arm through the streets, he said to Sarah and I, "Why don't you two hit the night club here and see if there is anyone interesting to bring back for the evening?" It was more of an order than a request and then I knew why we came out tonight and why Sarah was invited, tonight was all about training, and Sarah was going to show me the ropes in picking up girls. Although there was no one to accustom to Jeffrey's distinct taste to bring back, watching Sarah flirt from girl to girl like a floating butterfly, gave me enough insight into what I was expected to do.

    Within months I had become his handy little helper. Not only would I be on his beck and call, but I also aided Ghislaine in bringing in more girls to keep the appetite of our sexually starving chief from going hungry. I once asked Ghislaine, why she did what she did for him, instead of having a common monogamous relationship and getting jealous like norn1al partners would? She replied simply, “It takes the pressure off me having to do it". That said it all, we were all under the shade of Jeffrey's money tree, and not even someone like her could escape from its lure.
    Last edited by Bluegreen; 8th December 2019 at 17:24.

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    Default Re: Virginia Guiffres' 'Memoirs' from the Epstein files

    (Contd.)

    Just like Ghislaine had trained me, it was now my job to reiterate that onto other girls and thus the cycle of girls trying to climb the chain of hierarchy would start all over each time I brought a new one in. The sessions rarely differed much. They would mostly start out with Jeffrey on top of the massage table already naked and me leading a girl into massaging him until his instructions came to remove our clothing and if they agreed to that, then Jeffrey knew he had them in his pocket, and could do what ever else he wanted. He was never turned down in the many years I stayed with him.

    Never being shy, he would tell us to start kissing each other or depending on what he wanted we would perform erotic acts sometimes with him fondling us, or just masturbating while he watched. On explicit occasions, sex toys would be used on us girls, making it all the more exciting for him to observe. Ending with a payment of $200 for the new girl and $400 to me for bringing her. He would then wait for us to leave before adding the events, details, names, and payments in a little black diary he kept with him wherever he went, so if he were in any one of the cities he lived in, he would always have contacts for sex. I was slowly climbing the ladder, as Jeffrey was happy taking me everywhere with him, within the States.

    At home I distanced myself from my family altogether and with Jeffrey renting me an apartment in Royal Palm Beach as well as a plush furnished apartment in NYC, there was hardly a need to see them. I just couldn't face everyone thinking they all knew what I was really doing traveling around with a man old enough to be my grandfather who supposedly only wanted me for massages.

    Further convincing myself of the lies I told myself, I took a liking to the Xanax, it felt like it was all a dream at times, even meeting up with old contacts from school years who experimented with drugs. I was flying around the country, seeing so many places in America I had only heard about in movies and making more money than anyone my age and loving it. My friends didn't believe the lies I told them about only being a massage therapist, some of them even asking if they can meet Jeffrey too.

    At this point in my life my heart went missing for a while and I stooped so low, I was even bringing my friends, I just saw them as easy commission. When I wasn't playing servant to my master, I was partying hard, eventually using ecstasy pills, acid, and marijuana to disillusion the times I would've had away from Jeffrey to think about what I was actually doing with my life. I realized something one day while I was alone, although I had Jeffrey to attend to sexually, it was not gratifying. I needed someone to come home to, someone I could call my boyfriend and that showed me emotion not just a job to get done.

    (End Ch. 6)
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    Default Re: Virginia Guiffres' 'Memoirs' from the Epstein files

    Chapter 7

    A knock came to my apartment door one lazy afternoon while we were in Palm Beach. I looked through the peephole and didn't recognize the once familiar face. I asked from behind the closed door "Who is it"? The voice of the reply was one I wasn't anticipating to ever hear again. It was my Junior-High crush and childhood friend, TJ. The last time I saw him I was a runaway and he had let me stay at his house for a few days, telling his parents nothing, he kept me hidden away in his room. At nightfall he said to knock on his window and I could jump through and stay the night. Until I was picked up by authorities during school hours and questioned why I wasn't in school, they did some resourcing finding out I was a runaway, then delivered me back to my angry parents. "Oh My God-You finally answer your door girl", and in a whirlwind, T.J stormed back into my life, even moving into my apartment, secretly, within two weeks of his arrival.

    He had changed so much from the last time I had seen him. He used to be this hard looking rocker type, now he was cleaned up, wearing preppy clothes, and shooting out Tupac Lyrics. He had the same old big brown eyes though, and when he told me he had heard I was back in town but he was unable to ever get a hold of me he just kept knocking at my door every so often, I was sold. How sweet I thought, he must care about me if he was so intent on approaching me, not even thinking he would've spoken to the girls from our junior-high circle and they would've mentioned to him that I was back in town, what I was doing, and where to find me. We were a drug-induced romance, which budded from the fake emotions the effects made us feel. He got what he wanted, a free ride and not having to work, and I got what I deserved, a man who could let me go away with this multi-billionaire I regarded as my second boyfriend.

    I didn't want to alarm Jeffrey by me having a boyfriend, so I kept it quiet, until during a massage I was giving to him one afternoon. We were having a conversation about some of my friends, the party girls I had brought in to meet him. Jeffrey started asking questions about the different types of drugs they used, hearing them speak about it in his presence. "I thought a person on drugs would be all strung out and looking like hell, but the girls you know look great," he stated face down during the massage. That's when I told him I had been dabbling in ecstasy lately too, and I thought it was the most amazing feeling one could even fathom. I tried to describe the euphoric feelings it gave me and even joked with him about wanting to pet anything furry that was around and then there was the constant need to flick my tongue-ring around my mouth.

    It was great having such an open conversation about things Jeffrey had never experienced before and he seemed okay with everything I was telling him as we were having a good laugh together, so I thought I could push it a bit further and tell him the truth about TJ, since it was bound to come out sooner or later I'd rather not the latter, when it would look even worse that I kept the truth from him for so long.

    "Well while we're opening up about things together", I continued, "I had met someone from my past and we have been hanging out a lot lately. When I haven't been traveling with you I have been with him and I was wondering if you minded if I started to see this guy." He started to laugh out loud, "Are you serious? Of course not, no one in this world is monogamous, why would I expect you to be?" I was smitten with relief, but a little bit dis-heartened when I heard him speak that way and I wondered to myself if he'd had his own personal encounter with heartache. Of course the evening concluded in the same way it always had, the only reason I was really even there in the first place. Upon his request I straddled him on top of the table and let him explode with pleasure inside of me. Thinking the entire time about T.J, I felt so terrible but I quickly had to wipe the thoughts of guilt from my mind not to give Jeffrey the wrong impression. So I had myself busy with two men in my life, but that's not what I really wanted for myself. I wanted an occupation that would eventually set me free from depending on a man as my source of survival.

    I asked Jeffrey before I left for the evening, when my real training was going to begin and he liked my assertiveness. I thought it meant to him that I was taking my job with him seriously, but it was all part of his master plan to keep me by his side. Within a couple of weeks of my persistence, Jeffrey introduced me to a couple of real working massage therapists, not only with credentials but with their own clientele too. I was in awe of their teachings, it all made so much sense about the body and what they were saying. I felt like I had picked myself up out of the lurches and had a direction again.

    I was in the middle of another training session, with Jeffrey the recipient as usual, being it was rare for Ghislaine to ask for a massage unless of course it was for Jeffrey's own pleasure to watch the punch line of the session, when I was shocked to hear Jeffrey ask one of the therapists to now remove her shirt. He had no shame I thought. Even though she was above his usual age criteria, she was still a pretty woman in her early 30's with curly blonde hair and had an athletic body for a mother of two children. She didn't hesitate in his request. It looked like something out of a role-playing porn scene, with the therapist removing her white uniform to reveal her beautiful nude body and a much darker side to her personality.

    I couldn't believe it at first, I was in such a state of shock, and I began to question to myself if this was normal in the massage profession to expect this kind of clientele to request such degrading tasks even though they were professionals. At the end of the session she was paid $300 dollars an additional hundred for helping to train me as well, and I was paid my usual $200 dollars then we were both invited by Jeffrey to join him out by the pool for a cool dip. With Jeffrey making a few phone calls while her and I undressed again for a swim, I wanted to ask her a few personal questions about what she's come to learn about the Massage Therapy game, but I never got the chance as we were joined by Ghislaine moments later. She was asking how my training was going and booked the therapist in for herself in the following morning, where she was invited back to do another training session with me. It didn't take me long to figure out why.

    I was at my apartment when I received a phone call from Jeffrey, I thought it was the usual call to come over to his house, but he surprised me. Instead I would be going to the exclusive hotel in Palm Beach tonight, The Breaker's, where I would be meeting my first ever clients. Only told their first names I was given some instructions and the address where to meet Glen and Eva. They were a married couple with one on the way. I was quite concerned when I heard she was pregnant, being I really didn't know the body that well and didn't want to inflict any wrong doing on the unborn baby, but Jeffrey insisted I take this job. Just massage her gently where she wants to be rubbed and to save all of my energy for Glen's massage, since it was going to be a four-hour job. In an emphasized tone of voice I was being coached by Jeffrey to treat Glen with exactly whatever he wanted, just like I do for Jeffrey himself. It was my last bit of preparation before he sent me out to his friends and my first taste of responsibility in upholding his reputation.

    At around seven pm I took a taxi to the address I was given and found them on the residential side of the giant hotel's extensive property. When I arrived in their apartment it was a far cry from the lavish place I was expecting, still really nice but had a cozier family feel to it. It was just beginning to get dark when Eva and I went into the Master Bedroom and she undressed to reveal the first naked pregnant body I had ever seen. It was fascinating to see her in the later stages of maternity, and strangely enough it was a miraculous and wondrous sight. She was a former model and one of Jeffrey's many entourages from his past that had gotten too old for his taste and was married off to a wealthy colleague of his.

    Lying down on the bed I adjusted the pillows to try and make her more comfortable and I began to massage her as Jeffrey had instructed me to, softly and slowly. So at ease with her nude body she even asked me to massage her swelling breasts, in a non-sexual way. Not knowing any other way but that way, I was trying to oblige in her request doing the very best I could to relieve her but couldn't help but giggle to myself at the very sight of this. She said she was very happy at the end of the massage and rolled over to go to sleep, asking me to turn out the light at the end of it. I closed the door gently so as not to disturb her, and went to find my other client.

    The apartment's lights had been turned out for the sleeping children and I found Glen awaiting for me in the lounge room where I had to call out "Excuse me?" as I couldn't see him in the dark. There was a throw rug on the ground that he had already placed out as he began to strip down in preparation of the massage. Lying frontwards facing me with his exposed and ever growing manhood, I asked him to roll over to begin the massage. He complied with a cheeky smile and from his eagerness to show he was not shy indeed, I already knew where this was going to end up. I found it much more strenuous to massage on the floor but I wouldn't let that hold me back [ wanted to have a career and this being my first ever clients, I didn't want them to disapprove.

    Nearly four hours after I had gotten there I was still hard at work. Mentally preparing for the end of the session he let me know when he was ready to begin the other side to my job and just like Jeffrey did the first time, he requested me to take off my clothes starting with my shirt. When I complied, the requests kept coming in and before I could change my mind and run away, I was having intercourse with this man that was so comfortable doing all of this while his pregnant wife and children slept in the room beside us.
    Last edited by Bluegreen; 8th December 2019 at 17:26.

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    Default Re: Virginia Guiffres' 'Memoirs' from the Epstein files

    When he had climaxed, we both got up and dressed and he paid me a large tip even though Jeffrey would be the one to actually pay me for my time spent there. Just like it had all started, it had also ended so quickly and now that was that. I had to accept what my duties were and now I could go back to Jeffrey who would be further pleased in my demonstrations to keep him happy.

    I was called the next morning to come over to Jeffrey's mansion that afternoon for lunch, a swim and of course a massage session. Knowing all too well they'd be expecting the gory details of last night's events with my new clientele. I came there at lpm as requested and sat down for a light lunch and a swim. Jeffrey was mostly conducting business from his offside pool office, but he came to ask me if everything went well the night before. I told him I did everything asked of me and I am quite confident both my clients were more than pleased with me. He gave me a quick grin, before he headed back to the office, throwing a purple grape down his throat as he walked away.

    Lying out on one of the pool decks blue and white striped lounge beds, I was waiting for Jeffrey to finish his business so I could give him his massage. He never took too long with his work, unless there was something wrong and then we would all have to bear his mood but today he seemed fine. When we went up the stairs he told me we would be leaving for his ranch in Santa Fe, New Mexico in the morning, and I'd need to be packed and ready tonight. They loved leaving in the spur of the moment, Jeffrey once said he checks with his pilot Larry on the best weather before he heads to a different destination.

    I enjoyed spending time at his ranch, being it was my favorite of all of his residences. He had a lavish Mediterranean looking castle on top of a hill that overlooked his extensive 7,500 acres of property. It had an indoor pool, gym, and all the trimmings of extravagance one could only imagine. I had a great time on the quad bikes. Sarah and I often got scolded for tipping one over going to fast or trying to go up a steep hill, but we knew those weren't the things he cared about, so it wouldn't matter.

    My favorite of it all was his little town with it's own fire station and truck, stables full of horses, and little cottages where the housekeepers and ranch hands lived. On my own time I would take one of the quad bikes down to the stables and saddle up on one of his beautiful horses and go for a ride in the open terrain. It was coming up to the end of a very cold winter and still had the snow covered mountaintops and brisk air that I loved to take in during my many trail rides. I have been an experienced horse rider since my childhood, and could honestly pinpoint some of the best memories of my life being on the back of a horse.

    I exclaimed with thrill in my voice "Great, I'll get packed as soon as I get back to my apartment," and he threw in "Pack for a few weeks, as we will also be making a pit stop to L.A for some business afterwards and then to N.Y.C." I was used to these round trips with him, it was great as I was saving loads of cash and about to buy myself my first car. Jeffrey, Ghislaine, Emmy and I all left the following morning, as planned. Arriving in only a few hours at his awe-inspiring Santa Fe Palace was always a delight. Still brisk in the air, my petite frame looked even smaller in these gigantic overcoats. Nonetheless I was looking forward to spending time out in the fresh clean air and open land.

    After a few days of leisurely spending our time on the ranch, we went to the Indian markets in Albuquerque for a bit of shopping and sight seeing. Jeffrey wasn't the most off road kind of guy, so when we went sight seeing it was more like museums, boutique shopping, and local art galleries. Still a splendid trip though. With me picking up a few nifty collectibles to bring back for my family and knowing how much my mom loves Indian apparel, I thought it would put me back in her good books for awhile, I hoped at least. There was some lengthy time to put a little water under the bridge between my folks and I. With my life heading in a different direction I didn't see any use in holding on to so much hate especially that I didn't even have to see them that much.

    We got back to "Zorro Ranch", the name Jeffrey chose to call the massive land he bought to build his fortress on, and Jeffrey told me that he was looking forward to one of my famous relaxing massages and with that notion he gave my bags of shopping to one of the many housemaids who greeted us at the front door and asked her to bring my bags to the exquisite room I was staying in. We headed straight downstairs just past the massage room and gym where there is an indoor heated pool, shower and spa. First Jeffrey wanted to warm up in the spa underneath a decorated ceiling of clouds and blue skies. Starting the massage in the spa I rubbed his feet while he reclined into the spa's jets. We spoke of the museum and some of the knick-knacks I had bought and I thanked him for the turquoise earrings and necklace he had got for me as a gift, joking about not ever knowing what to get for him, being that he was richest man I'd ever known.

    By no far means did we ever have any kind of a mutual respectful bond between us, but there was a significant softer side he began to share with me that was different from how he treated his other girls. Maybe it was my feet that filled the shoes for that time being, or the fact my novelty hadn't worn off yet, but what ever it was I was getting confused from the double-sided life I was leading. He got up from the spa tub shortly thereafter and asked me to come wash him in the shower. It was nothing unordinary to me, I was used to his need to be nurtured and pampered. I performed his request with a cheerful mannerism, letting him think I was taking care of him out of my sheer sweetness. I got the towels ready for him to get out of the shower and towel dried him, patting his skin instead of rubbing as previously instructed. "You know you have a very maternal instinct, you'll make a fine mother someday", he would constantly acclaim at my gentleness. "I hope so" I replied, I would love to have my own babies one day, but not any time soon". Laughing at the very thought of that.

    We walked up the steps and through the French doors into the gym's adjoining massage room. It was smaller room than in his other houses, placing the emphasis on the large massage bed in the center. I grabbed another clean towel to keep him warm while I prepared the music, lights, and oils. He liked me to use mostly lavender or other aromatherapy scents, which reminded me of woodlands in the spring. Always enjoying the beginning of the massage, I put my heart and soul into training in my profession. I could just close my eyes I would see only with my hands the areas that needed the most work, and even though I wasn't a professional yet, Jeffrey could feel and told me there wasn't many that could please him during a massage being untrained. I'm sure now it was just something he'd say nice to all the girls, but in the time I had known him I could honestly say it wasn't like him to compliment girls in any other way than regards to a sexual performance or their looks. I was flattered at his praise and when the massage was over, so were the sentiments. I was back to being used for my body and what I could do with it.

    With him satisfied and off for a nap, I could go do what ever I wanted, like usually I would go down to the stables or something adventurous, but today I was in a melancholy mood, just wanting to relax and unwind myself in a giant tub in my bathroom. I got out some of the oils I used on Jeffrey putting them in the steaming water and popped two of my Xanax pills, forgetting about my troubles and focusing on the quiet moment at hand, just wanting to soak up the peacefulness of it. Nearly slipping away to sleep in the tub, I was startled when I got the call on the intercom to come down for dinner.

    Everybody seemed in good spirits at dinner, which helped to lift mine. We all ate our meals and went into the movie room to watch a newly released movie. It was a ritualistic scenario, most nights that everyone was at ease we would all sit in one of his various located movie rooms and hang out together. Just as he always would Jeffrey asked Emmy and me to both grab a foot during the movie that night and just keep massaging through the film. We were always on call for duty, no matter where we were or what ever time it was. He would just plop a foot up or pass over his hand at any given time and require a massage, even if the film went on for over two hours. I would still be required to sit on the floor rubbing his feet or hands, and even his scalp at times.

    After the credits had rolled Ghislaine got up to close the door to the room and I knew she had received the signals herself and would proceed to manipulate, violate, and use us to satisfy Jeffrey's urges once more before he went to bed. The blue illumination from the empty TV screen was glaring in the tenebrous room as we watched her undress in a light that relied on the reflection of the moon through the windows peek to show it's proceeding display. She walked back to the sofa where I was sitting at Jeffrey's feet still rubbing away and uncovered her shirt displaying ample bosoms for his appeal. Approaching me like a lioness hunting her prey she stood me up and led me to the other couch across from Jeffrey and situated herself on top of me, sliding her fingers through my dress to unbutton my attire, revealing my girlish figure and two small peaks. Pushing my head into her breasts I was being fondled by Emmy at the same time, which took her cue when she saw Ghislaine look in my direction.

    From an occasional glance upwards, I could see that Jeffrey was up to his methodical foreplay stroking his manhood while watching the build up to his main event. They both took turns making me moan from their touches and when Ghislaine was ready to she would insinuate we do the same to her. She urged me downwards, until my head was between her opened legs and giving into her wanton indulgence.

    Twenty minutes passed before Jeffrey exerted his last energies for the night, the only advantage of being with an old man was they could never last long. Departing to our own separate quarters for the night, I called TJ for condolence. It was so important for me to feel like I had someone out there who saw me as more than a pretty girl with vulnerabilities. I needed to maintain some sort of a connection to my youthful side. But it would be to no avail as I was getting used to being badly disappointed by all the men in my life.

    (End Ch. 7)
    Last edited by Bluegreen; 8th December 2019 at 17:29.

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    Default Re: Virginia Guiffres' 'Memoirs' from the Epstein files

    Chapter 8

    The phone nearly rang out and I was about to hang up the receiver when he finally picked up. On the other end of the phone I could hardly hear TJ above the background noises. When I asked where he was he told me "At our place baby", meaning the apartment Jeffrey had rented for me to be staying in alone. He already sounded off his chops elongating his words and slurring his speech. There was music pumping and people shouting behind him and every one sounded like they were having a great time. I was so sick of his friends coming over using my house as a place to party and then trashing it so bad I would even have to sometimes throw my furniture out. I blew up at him over the phone and threatened to kick him out, back to his parent's house, so much for my relaxing evening I thought to myself venturing on to tell him "You leech off me using the money I leave behind for you for drugs and throw these gigantic parties while I'm away." Also mentioning the disastrous messes I would come home to.

    "I am so close to ending it with you", I would openly threaten, but he knew better than I did, that I just couldn't bring myself to do so, needing some attachment to my youth through all of this. "Don't worry baby" he would say attempting to soothe me with his false words going on to tell me how much he was missing me and how he was always thinking about me when I was away which was like all the time. I would soon be buttered up and soft for serve. This was my penalty for choosing a guy that accepted my lifestyle with my "Other-Man" as I had so eloquently put it to him once as not only acceptable but deemed it "Cool". The conversation ended with an easy good-bye and no "I-Love-You's" or anything sweet. We weren't those kinds of partners yet, so much time spent away from each other and the lifestyles we both led, I couldn't expect much more from him than what we already had.

    Jeffrey and I left two days later, heading off to Carmel in California for a business trip of his, leaving Ghislaine and Emmy to catch a commercial flight back to N.Y.C, where we would meet up with them later. When we arrived at the hotel we were given badges for the meeting tomorrow and settled into our rooms. We got adjoining rooms, keeping the doors open at all times, but sleeping in different beds. He liked sleeping alone, even after a late night session I would always go back to my own room. I think that's why he liked me so much I never put pressure on him to become intimately more than what we were already, never giving him the impression I wanted more than what we had. It seemed to keep him happy just the way we were together. I hung out with Jeffrey that night, going to a restaurant for dinner and afterwards watching a movie back at the hotel.

    The next morning we went for an early morning breakfast before the conference and Jeffrey gave me some money to go shopping instead of attending the all day meeting with him. I was more than obliged to accept his request, and wished him a good day before planning to meet back in the room around six pm. He gave me five hundred dollars. He said it was just enough to go have fun for the day and a girl of my means could find plenty to do with that kind of money.

    I walked around the many boutiques that lined the streets of the picturesque cozy town, and picked up some bits of clothing here and there and even met a girl who was passing through on a road trip. She was somewhere in her late teens with golden sunshine tresses, olive skin and blue eyes. Her name escapes me, as it was so unexpected, I think it was Tina or something like that but she was your typical California carefree chic, offering me a few tokes of her jay as we ducked down a side street together.

    I was so happy I had met this girl, as she was fun spirited and charismatic a relief from the social expectations I had come to know lately, but always being "on-call" as I had been trained up to be, I ended up inviting her back to meet Jeffrey at our hotel later on as a surprise for him. Maybe she was just a bit too carefree for Jeffrey's taste but anyhow she was pretty enough to let him be the judge of that matter. Over the next hour of hanging out together I found out that she was on a road trip with her best friend who was still sleeping off the hard night of partying from the night before. She was originally from the southern states as she had a bit of draw still left in her accent, and she had recently left her boyfriend because he was leaving for a college too far away not believing in long distance relationships.

    Then it was my turn to dish out my contribution to the conversation of getting to know each other better. I always got anxiety before I would tell a girl what I did for work and romance (as such), morally I was ashamed of who I was especially with a girl having led somewhat of a normal life. Next, as always, I expected to be probed with so many more questions and having to make Jeffrey sound ideal and hot for the taste of a young girl and knew I would be point blank lying, so I told her some of the truth which was that he was really rich and paid good money for a massage and useful to have around as a contact. I told her he'd give her two hundred dollars for a two-hour massage with me leading the way and warning her he was known to be frisky during the session.

    Unexpectedly she said she could use the money and then came the part that I hated the most, but had to do so they wouldn't be as shocked as I was the first time I had met him. "He does like us to be nude though and sometimes asks for more than just the massage itself.” All I could do was wait for a response after a shocking sentence like that, and depending on the girl, most were sadly taken back by the money. Her carefree attitude seemed to disillusion for a moment when she gave it some thought and asked me "He's not like, fat and ugly, is he?”"" NO ... no ... not at all" I replied, "He's got more of a Richard Gere appeal to him". Trying to make him sound a little more measurable than just a rich old man that likes to be with girls younger than half his age. "Well then, what time shall we meet tonight"? She asked next. Great, I thought, Jeffrey would be most pleased with my find. "Knock on my room quietly, you're going to be a surprise. Be there at around half past seven tonight and I will introduce you to Jeffrey". She threw the butt of the second jay we shared in the bushes and we strolled into a homemade fudge boutique to get some relief for the munchies we now had.

    When I got back to the hotel at around a quarter to six as requested, nobody was back yet, so I took the time to set up the oils and bath in my room for his massage tonight. I thought I would plan it so the girl would be cleaning off, as Jeffrey liked before he had sexual contact with a new girl and he could walk in and be surprised to find a strange beautiful girl in my room who wanted to massage him. Jeffrey walked through the door not long after I was done prepping for the night ahead, looking like he had a rough day at the office, which was very rare for him. He sat down on the bed and I asked him how his day was. He didn't want to talk much about it, saying it was boring and long, rather asking what I got up to for the day. Being coy about having a jay and his unexpected surprise to come, I told him it was a great day of shopping and sight seeing and I even brought him back some locally made fudge from the shop that had fulfilled my chocolate cravings only hours ago.

    Telling him of the places I ventured into, I mentioned to him "We'd have to hit the fisherman's wharf tomorrow. I saw some locals walking around with breadbaskets filled with creamy clam chowder and it smelled absolutely scrumptious." He said if the weather were nice we'd check it out tomorrow before we left for L.A. He wanted to take off his jeans and collared shirt and put on his normal attire of sweatpants and a sweatshirt. Ushering him out the door for dinner when he was more relaxed I was lucky when he said he was starving and quickly got dressed. We just found a quite spot to eat that was next to the wharf and got back to the hotel just in time for our surprise guest. He wanted to go have a shower and settle down for a massage, so I told him I'd join him in a minute, I just had to make a phone call real quick which he thought was odd and asked me if everything was alright, I restated that I'd just be a minute, trying not to let on about anything.

    The knock came quietly on my room's door just on time, as we had planned and I told her my idea to surprise him. I let her into the bathroom where she orchestrated my plan perfectly. Jeffrey finished his shower without me and when he called out for me I told him that I needed him to have a look at something in my room real quick. Not giving in to what it was that he would be looking at, he came into the room where I opened my bathroom door to reveal a beautiful nude girl bathing in a thick amount of soap bubbles in my tub looking at him with an alluring intrigue. His grin went from ear to ear when she stood up and introduced herself, letting the bubbles run down her glistening body at an ever-slow pace. It was a proud moment for Jeffrey, I had done well in his eyes, and she was not like the other girls I had brought to him before, degraded from a lifetime of abuse off the streets. This girl was exactly his pro quo looking sweet and innocent as the girl next door. My efforts were to show him I knew that my only responsibility was to keep him happy at all costs.

    I led her through the massage on Jeffrey and of course afterwards gratifying his perversion with his lustful requests to be fondled and watch us become more than just friends. I didn't feel too bad at the time with his coercion providing many financial rewards making his scheme enticing to a young, impressionable teen not realizing the terrible memories left to come from all of this.

    Afterwards he paid her the usual two hundred dollars he gave to everyone for their time and took down her name and phone number writing it in his infamous little black book of the contacts he met in every city but only the ones he really liked made it down in his records. We went out the next afternoon as I had suggested last night and we ate our clam chowder breadbaskets overlooking the wharf, watching the seals playfully barking at each other on the rocks nearby. Shortly after we were driven to the private airstrip and took off for Los Angeles.

    On the plane was an unexpected visitor. Matt Groening the producer of the "The Simpson's" TV show was catching a ride with us.
    Last edited by Bluegreen; 8th December 2019 at 17:31.

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