I was born overseas to American missionaries. My father lost his faith by the time I was two and my parents returned to the US for grad school. My father, his brother, and their father raped and sexually abused all of the girls of my generation. My father saw it as his mission to train me in my job as a woman — to sexually please men.

Ric Flair's daughter, Charlotte, poses completely nude



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The first time I was raped I was 16 years old. The night exists for me in a series of flash-bulb images that I can neither piece together nor erase from my memory, despite years of trying. My last clear memory was stumbling away from the crowd, looking for a place to sleep. I was drunk… really drunk. Before that night, I had only been to a couple of parties, most of my wild stories were embellishments.


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At this point in my story I was just a couple of months past my sixteenth birthday. I was five feet tall, skinny, had hardly any tits to speak of, but I had a small waist, a cute butt and a flaring set of hips that I was just learning how to use. I had curly red hair, freckles, and braces on my teeth. I was obviously no beauty. I got to tell you up front, that I was not complaining one damn bit.