Eyes Without A Face: A True Story of Survival from Emotional, Sexual and Physical Abuse

Eyes Without a Face

A true story of survival from emotional, sexual and physical abuse

SAMUEL P. HOLLOWAY III

Smashwords eBook published by SPH THREE.

© Copyright 2015 by Samuel P. Holloway III

No part of this eBook may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior written permission from Fideli Publishing.

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Visit my website at

www.SamuelHolloway3.com

Table of Contents

Dedication

Acknowledgements

Chapter 1 — The Move to Minnesota

Chapter 2 — On My Own

Chapter 3 — Invasion of Privacy

Chapter 4 — A Dream, A Simple Memory

Chapter 5 — Innocence Taken Away

Chapter 6 — Eyes Without A Face

Chapter 7 — Childhood Days

Chapter 8 — The Stay With Dad

Chapter 9 — My Real Dad Returns

Chapter 10 — I Was Going To Be Different

Chapter 11 — Against the Grain

Chapter 12 — DL Men

Photos

Chapter 13 — From Robert to Samuel

Chapter 14 — Adonis

Chapter 15 — He Is The Best Thing I Ever Had

Chapter 16 — You & Me: Vows

Chapter 17 — Escape From Hell

Chapter 18 — A Long Way Down

Chapter 19 — Sunshine

Dedication

I dedicate this book to my best friend, the late TyKeisha LeNora Kelly. She showed me with GOD all things are possible.

I also dedicate this book and my mission to anyone who has been abused. GOD is always in control. I am a living witness.

Acknowledgements

First and foremost, I would like to thank GOD. I know that without GOD in my life, none of this would have been possible. When one door closes, a window will always open.

Writing this book has helped me move on with my life and forgive those who have caused me pain. I pray that this book will start the healing process that I so desperately seek. I pray that this book will build a bridge for me between my mother and my father. I acknowledge the love and support of my parents.

I would like to thank my circle of family and friends for supporting me and standing by me in writing this book.

I want to give special thanks to Shantel Floyd, Kinyacta Milton, Felicia Edmond, Jessica Thao, Michelle Jarvis, Justin Kelly, and Damien Snowden for their input on this book.

Extra special thanks to my sister, LaShenia Theresa Greene, and Wilhelmina Hampton Smith, my friend and first publisher who guided me on this journey.

I also thank GOD for sending my editors, Katrice Hatten and Terrance Kelly, and my graphic designer, Jessica Godbee, into my life. They made it happen, even when I wanted to give up.

Prologue

As I lay there in fetal position with my asshole and arm bleeding, I was hurting and shaking. I was in a dark room all alone. He took something that did not belong to him. I trusted him. I was loyal to him and gave him all the praise for what he stood for to me. How could this man I called Daddy or Father do this to me? He had raped me and taken both my manhood and childhood. This was not like being paid for sex. He fucked me until he busted a nut and walked right out the door after he slashed my arm with the blade he carried. When I looked at my arm, I saw the white meat. I thought to myself, How the hell did I get all the way here to Minneapolis? How is it that now I am being raped coming from DuSable Arms Apartments (the projects) in Gary, Indiana? I remember crying hysterically before passing out.

CHAPTER ONE

The Move to Minnesota

It was early morning and the birds were chirping. The sun still snoozing soundly under the horizon, it was literally a cold, dark morning, December 22, 1998. For me it was BRIGHT and NEW. It had been about three months since my trip to Minnesota, and I was finally moving. Blockbuster transferred me to a location down the street from my brother’s house, and I got accepted into the University of Minnesota. I couldn’t wait to start my new year in a new venue with new opportunities.

I loaded all my worldly possessions in my Chevy Beretta. The driver side door still leaked in the rain or when the snow melted. My steering wheel hose was leaking, and now it had no heat. It was still the most loyal piece of junk a person could have. It ran, and that’s all that mattered. I visited a couple of people before I headed out. It was ironic. Kim was the reason I even went to Minnesota, and due to last minute changes, she wasn’t even moving anymore, but I was. I saw that my life was going nowhere in Gary. I knew if I stayed I would end up just like the others, in jail or dead.

I left Gary about noon-ish. Once I was on the highway, I made a promise to myself that I would never move back. I put my foot on the gas and didn’t look back. I prayed, cried, and thanked GOD for the opportunity to leave Gary. Bundled up and ready for whatever the road had to offer, I drove 7½ hours with no heat into minus thirty degree weather. I knew it was better than anything I was leaving behind. I was prepared and very anxious. I listened to Whitney Houston’s CD, My Love Is Your Love, the entire trip, and thought of how my life was about to change for the better.

As easy as it was for me to get to St. Paul, once I got to within the city, I got lost. I called my brother, and he directed me right down the street to his front door. (I really was lost. I promise!) I pulled up excited, nervous, anxious, curious and victorious at the same time. I had really elevated to a new level in life. I was going to be living with my brother, and that was a major deal. Growing up in Gary was hard. Having a gay little brother made it harder on him. Romie didn’t choose to be my defender or to acknowledge that he had a gay brother. I wasn’t mad at him for his decision not to claim me. I also understood that the streets of Gary were hard, and to be gay or even to associate with a sissy/punk/faggot would not be good. He allowed so many negative people to influence his relationship with me that it formed a huge gap between us, so I felt now would be our time to bond and really get to know each other.

******

Living in Minnesota was slowly showing me the move was worth it. School was coming along nicely. On top of that, I got along with my brother and his family without incident and was even doing a little traveling. I was young and eager to try many new things. So in March when my friend Jonathan, a flight attendant, planned a trip to fly some of his friends to Hawaii, I was packed before he finished asking me to go. We could bring someone, so I brought my friend Arthur from Gary. He was the first straight boy I started kicking it with. We attended Indiana University together, and he was real cool. I figured since everyone was going with a lover, and I didn’t have one and didn’t even want one, he would be a good friend to chill with while everyone else was booed up.

I drove to Gary to pick up Arthur and Keisha, Jonathan’s best friend, and her girlfriend. We drove to Chicago Midway Airport and left for Hawaii. Jonathan and the others lived in Las Vegas, so they met us in Hawaii.

This was only my second time flying. I had never been out of the continental United States before, so I was excited but somewhat nervous at the same time. Furthermore, because Jonathan was the greatest, this vacation was basically free, $50 round trip with his buddy passes! I mean $50 for a week in paradise, who could ask for anything more? Needless to say, my nerves settled.

When we landed, I couldn’t believe my eyes. This was a long way from Gary, Indiana. The air was so crisp and smelled pretty. Flowers, trees, mountains, the ocean, the scenery was all so beautiful to me. Our accommodations were nothing less than spectacular; we stayed at the Hilton Inn Suites, right on the beach. The water was beautiful. You could see right through it. It was warm, and everyone looked like they were having so much fun swimming and playing. I was too afraid to get in all the way, so I sat at the shore and just watched them. I was in Hawaii, BITCH! I didn’t care if I got in the water or not.

Our last night in Hawaii over dinner Jonathan told us it was time to live, and we were about to do it big. He said as long as he was a flight attendant, we were going to travel, and see the world for free. I was game! I really hadn’t been anywhere except Gary, Chicago, Minnesota, and now Hawaii. I was ready to see the rest of the world!

******

A long and much less exciting flight home dropped me back into my reality—my job and school. Life went on as usual. Then just as I was starting to really settle in and feel good about my new surroundings, I was pulled out of class and my whole situation took a dramatic change. I was notified that I was unable to receive financial aid because I was an out of state resident. I had to pay $5,000 cash or dropout. I dropped out. I was upset for a few days, but I figured I couldn’t let it get the best of me. I continued to work at Blockbuster, and picked up a second job at a gas station, as a means to try and raise the money to pay for school.

One night at the gas station a woman came in. She was thick with brown skin, short hair and super friendly. She instantly connected with me. She told me to call her Ms. Ganet, and said she would love for me to meet her son because she thought we would have a lot in common. I was still fairly new to the area, so I decided it couldn’t hurt and gave her my number. A couple days passed when she called and invited me over for dinner. About mid-evening, I headed towards downtown St. Paul where she stayed in this nice apartment complex. The apartment was immaculate. It had beautiful amenities like stainless steel appliances, granite counter tops, hardwood floors and a big balcony with a beautiful view of downtown St. Paul. NICE!

Ms. Ganet’s son, Shabastion, didn’t live with her, so we went downstairs to meet him. He pulled up in a red convertible BMW. I was stunned, shocked and very impressed. He was gorgeous, and by far the sexiest guy I had seen in Minnesota up to this point. He was a redbone, 19 years old, about 5’8" and 170 lbs. He had an amazing athletic build and rocking a dark Caesar haircut. I mean, he was really hot and apparently doing very well for himself. Small talk over dinner led to Shabastion and I excusing ourselves to the balcony to talk more openly. I could not wait to find out where he worked, and what kind of money he was making that enabled him to drive a BMW and live in his own place at 19. He got the biggest kick out of watching me manage my curiosity. He then told me he was a male escort. My eyebrows went straight up. I was definitely intrigued. I felt since he was open enough to tell me his profession that I could confide in him as well. I began to explain my money issues and how I got kicked out of school. I also told him about my living situation and that I was ready to be on my own. We had a great laugh over the Beretta. (I still love my car!) He filled me in a little on the way everything worked. He told me how appointments got made, what some did and others didn’t. Then he told me that he could get me in and gave me a number to call. He told me to drop his name. I thought about it again and decided I was going to try it. Fuck working two jobs; I’m going to use my body to get what I want and what I need.

I made the call, mentioned Shabastion’s name, and scheduled a time to meet with Boss. Seriously, that was his name. That is the name that I know him by to this day. We met at a penthouse in downtown Minneapolis. It was amazing! It had the opulence of a hotel lobby in South Beach, but the classic finesse of a condo on New York’s Upper West Side. The place had dark hardwood floors, lush white carpet, and a state of the art kitchen with two refrigerators.

Boss invited me to sit down. He started the conversation without hesitation. He assured me that everything would be okay and that he would take me under his wing. He said it was imperative that I follow his directions, and honor four key rules:

1. Never go behind his back and try to get one of his clients,

2. Always have security with me on my runs,

3. Never get too wasted, so I can’t perform or run the risk of miscounting the money,

4. Never, EVER, cross him.

Boss instantly took an interest in me after hearing that I wanted to become an escort. Now I realize he really didn’t care why. The reason was the same for all of us. MONEY!

The next thing we talked about was my pay. I needed to know that it was worth it to actually sell my body. He broke it down just like this. He let me know that I would be meeting with high paying clients who were married and would live all over the world but mostly in the Minneapolis St. Paul, Minnesota area.

The split started at 60/40 his way. I was to fuck anyone that he scheduled me to meet. We would only meet at hotels across the Twin Cities. A security guard would take me to the venue and bring me back to the Boss’ house to settle up the money. This would happen four to five days per week. Oral sex paid out $600 dollars per hour. Meaning he got $400, then I would get $200. Sex, if I was being fucked by a man, started at $1,000 per hour. He would get $600, and I would get $400. If I was fucking the man, it was $1,200 per hour. He would get $700, and I would get $500. If my client was a woman, the rate would start at $1500 per hour. He got $900, and I would get $600.

I think that Boss felt like he could exploit me because of my situation. It may have seemed that Boss had all of the power, but really he did not. You see, I didn’t have shit to lose at that moment. I decided I was going to counter Boss’s offer, and tell him that the 60/40 split had to be reversed. I explained what I brought to the table, and I was looking to get paid what I was worth. I sold him on the fact that I was a hard worker with a 10-inch dick; would fuck women and men, and work at least five days per week. He agreed to my terms, and I started immediately.

I got a call that my first shift would start around 2am. I arrived at the Boss’ house. Immediately I was briefed about my trick and offered weed and alcohol. Boss always had Kush and an assortment of the best vodkas and tequilas on the market to get us primed for duty. I took four shots and smoked a full blunt before the security guard and I rode out to Mystic Lake Casino where my first client, a 38-year-old white man, was waiting on me. Based on his picture, he was not exceptional in the looks department, but not TUTFFM (too ugly to fuck for money).

His request stated that he wanted to fuck me, and he wanted oral sex. I ran the numbers in my head. That was a total of $1600 for just an hour. For two hours it would be $3200. I was going to automatically get $1000 tonight, and I knew I could make that $2000. Afterwards, we split the money. I walked to the door and my heart was pounding. I was nervous as shit, but I was in the zone. I was so high and buzzed that I just had one thing on my mind. Money. I knocked on the door, and he opened it right away. The room was lit as I requested because I needed to see everything on him from head to toe before I did anything. He was already naked. He was cute, and he had a nice body. He appeared to be about 6’3 about 210 pounds solid with blond hair, blue eyes and a 7-inch dick. He was going to be perfect for my first job. He was a realtor. He told me that I was fine and sexy and he wanted us to have a long-term thing if everything was to his liking.

He also said the magic word. TIPS. We got to keep all the tips, so I knew I had to work it BABY! And I did. I did everything that he wanted which was oral sex and sex.

After the night was over, I walked out with my part being $2500. I got paid a total of $3200 for the job and $500 for my tip. I did what I had to do for two hours. As I walked out the hotel room door, I felt good, and I felt bad. I felt good because I could pay all my bills in advance if I wanted to, and do whatever else I needed. I finally had enough money to live, and I managed to make it in just one night. Then I felt bad because I just had sex with a married man with children for money. But I didn’t care as I felt that money in my back pocket. I figured I had done this before in my past anyway without getting paid as much, but now I was getting paid a lot. The money numbed my bad feelings, and all I could think of was making more money. I got back in the car. The security guard and I drove back to the Boss’ house. After that night, I knew it was on and popping. I was hooked. When I pulled out the cash, Boss’ eyes got really big. He looked like, what the fuck? He knew exactly how much he was getting paid.

When I got back to my brother’s house it was late. I was feeling good. I had a pocket full of money, and for the first time I knew that