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She would work for him as a submissive for sadistic clients.Then he untied her wrists and left her crumpled on the floor.

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As I came to know her over the years, to enjoy her dry sense of humor, her keen intelligence, her blunt manner of speaking that forces you to take off every mask, I learned the other side of her story too. It is a lesson of redemption and courage, second chances and taking chances. Jill was born in New Hampshire during the '60s, the daughter of a prominent, middle-class family with ties to the local school board.At one point we stopped and I heard a garage door go up.We stepped out of the car into a place that smelled like a musty basement.I met Jill Brenneman in 2011 at a conference for sex workers in Asheville, North Carolina.Standing behind a podium ironically flanked by crosses, the tall redhead delivered a presentation so spellbinding that the audience seemed to breathe and gasp in unison.The men would subject Jill to all manners of torture and twisted sex on the equipment.

She had to pretend that she loved it and wanted it.

With only $100 in her pocket, Jill hitchhiked to Cincinnati to live with a friend. “I spent all my money at an arcade on ' Pacman' and ' Space Invaders.' Then I realized that I had no money for food.

When the friend’s parents turned her away, Jill became homeless. That’s when the enormity of being homeless really hit.” Jill began staking out cafés, where she would snatch sandwiches and run. “I met Bruce while I was sitting in the mall one day,” she recalls.

We also worked on my cover story, which was that I was a student from Louisville and was so in awe of him that I decided to become his submissive girlfriend.

If I was questioned I was to say this was all consensual.” Once Bruce was satisfied with Jill’s training, she was allowed to see clients.

She ate out of dumpsters and slept in the cemetery where police wouldn’t bother her; the sprinkler system provided a way to get clean. “He looked like my teenage crush, Lindsey Buckingham from Fleetwood Mac.