Steve Cuno - Behind the Mormon Curtain: Selling Sex in Americas Holy City

Pitchstone Publishing

Durham, North Carolina

www.pitchstonebooks.com

Copyright 2021 Steve Cuno

All rights reserved.

Printed in the USA

First edition

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Cuno, Steve, 1954- author.

Title: Behind the Mormon curtain : selling sex in Americas holy city / Steve Cuno.

Description: Durham, North Carolina : Pitchstone Publishing, [2021] | Includes bibliographical references. | Summary: A behind-the-scenes investigation into Salt Lake Citys prostitution industry and how it intersects with MormonismProvided by publisher.

Identifiers: LCCN 2021028199 (print) | LCCN 2021028200 (ebook) | ISBN 9781634312172 (hardback) | ISBN 9781634312189 (ebook)

Subjects: LCSH: ProstitutionReligious aspectsChurch of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. | MormonsSexual behaviorUtah. | ProstitutesUtahInterviews. | ProstitutionUtah.

Classification: LCC BX8643.P75 C86 2021 (print) | LCC BX8643.P75 (ebook) | DDC 289.3/32dc23

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021028199

LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021028200

For the women and men who were kind enough to pull back the curtain and give me a glimpse into their lives, both the good and the bad. I wish I could thank you by name. May society come to its senses so that someday I can. You have my heartfelt thanks.And my respect.

And for SNS.

He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.

John 8:7

If someone says move the box, theyll never be able to match the power of move the damn box or something stronger.

Jeff Wagg

One of the tracks on comedian George Carlins fourth album, Class Clown, was a version of his routine Seven Words You Can Never Say on Television. It drew little attention until a New York City radio station aired it, and a member of a conservative media watchdog group heard it in the company of his 15-year-old son. The man complained to the Federal Communications Commission (FCC), claiming his son shouldnt-a ought-a been exposed to such language. Never mind that it was 1973, when 15-year-olds were exposed to all seven words in school hallways every day.

A series of First Amendment battles ensued, inevitably finding their way to the Supreme Court. The result was the Safe Harbor Doctrine, which says its okay to broadcast naughty words between 10 p.m. and 6 a.m. The courts reasoning was that most kids would be in bed during those hours. If your kids complain when you send them to bed by 10, tell them their argument is not with you but with the U.S. Supreme Court.

We owe the concerned father a debt of gratitude. Due to his tireless efforts, Carlins septet of naughty words attained legendary status.

In connection with a stubbed toe or parking ticket, I may on occasion avail myself of one or two of the scandalous seven. But I avoid using them in my work, even when Im writing between 10 p.m. and 6 a.m. Until now, the most colorful word I ever published was shit, and, at that, only twice in the course of three books and some 200 articles. The prior sentence marks only my third written shit. And that sentence marks my fourth. In this book, a few more are coming up.

You will also encounter a more infamous member of Carlins septet that I had until now managed to avoid using in print altogether. It starts with f, ends with k, and, no, it isnt flank. I could have substituted another word, but my regard for Carlin, my interviewees, and your intelligence forbade. Take, for instance, a comment that one of my interviewees tossed out as cheerfully as you or I might toss out, Its sunny outside. I think youll agree that something valuable would be lost were I to attempt cleaning it up, say, like this: I love to copulate. I just copulate and I get paid. What could be better?

I am a recovering prude, so I empathize if your sensitivities recoil. But there is much to learn from the good people youll meet in these pages, so please tell your sensitivities to flanking adjust.

I would venture to guess that Anon, who wrote so many poems without signing them, was often a woman.

Virginia Woolf

The sexual service providers quoted in these pages agreed to speak with me only on condition of their and their clients anonymity. Erring on the side of caution, I changed key identifying details. If you think you recognize anyone in these pages, a word of caution before you risk embarrassing that person or yourself: you are probably mistaken. Of course, providers work under pseudonyms, and only in a few cases did providers share with me their real names. Still, to keep everyone doubly safe, I traded their real pseudonyms for fake ones, the irony in real versus fake pseudonyms not lost on me.

Coming up with pseudonyms for pseudonyms proved trickier than Id anticipated. Id no sooner pull a name from the air than Id become aware of a provider working under that name. So if you happen to know a provider who goes by, say, Eva, Jewel, or Koko, be assured that she is not the Eva, Jewel, or Koko youll meet here.

The only people who appear in this book under their real names are: Nikki, who courageously uses her real name as a public advocate for sex worker rights and asked me to call her Nikki in this book; Moab City Police Chief and former Salt Lake County Sheriff Jim Winder, who graciously agreed to be interviewed on the record; people whose actions and names are matter of public record; and, well, me. If I were going to invent a name for myself, trust me on this, Id have come up with something way cooler.

It takes two bodies to make one seduction.

Guy Wetmore Carryl

Eva preferred attending church without drawing attention to her looks. It was something of a losing battle. She was of Latin American descent, in her mid-twenties, fit, five-foot-two and buxom, with plump lips, dark lashes, and long, thick, black hair that struck a contrast against her pale complexion. The shapeless dark green dress she pulled from the closet could do only so much toward making her unremarkable.

Having grown up Mormon, Eva knew well the importance of not becoming pornography through immodest dress. Form-fitting clothes were out. Skirts and shorts were to reach the knee. Sleeveless tops were a no-no. Heaven forbid Mormon females should inadvertently plant lustful thoughts in the defenseless soil of male Mormon minds. To expect men to take responsibility for their thoughts at the sight of an exposed shoulder or glimpse of thigh was to expect too much.