You Might Have Been a Hooker* Too Long….

So, does anyone remember those “You might be a [blank] if…” jokes where the punch line is some funny and/or awful stereotype? Like “You might be a redneck if your mother is also your sister”, or “You might be a dumb blonde if you can’t tell if it’s chicken or fish.” Well, you know where this is going! (and please, feel free to add on to this, but only in the fun way. Punch UP never DOWN, as my comedian friends always say)

This whole thing came about because after a sweaty roll in the hay with one of my social sex partners (yes, Virginia, I have a bit of a carrousel of people for what I call ‘sport sex’. Not professional by any means, but not that lovey-dovey romantic love making. Sport sex is much easier to move around) and instead of just laying back and enjoying the after glow, silly auto-pilot me pops up, gets a tissue and a hot cloth, and begins to do the pampered clean up/wipe down that all of my clients get to enjoy (I have a hot towel warmer, and I MUST use it). This was a little absurd to him, as he’d never had his… um… clean up needs taken care of for him before. Half way through I realize what I’m doing, and get a terrible case of the giggles.

“Well, you know you’ve been a hooker too long when you start doing the clean up directly after a sport sex session,” I laugh. After that, I started to think about it a bit more, and came up with a few things. Some aren’t original at all, but some I thought were a little more personal. So, here are my (probably terrible) You Might Be a Hooker jokes:

*(I want to get this out of the way: though I prefer to use the term ‘hooker’ in reference to MYSELF as a sex worker, it isn’t always considered a positive term to other sex workers. As always, this blog strives to speak for ME, and MY experiences without stepping over or silencing others’ voices or making others feel uncomfortable. In place of “hooker” one could put sex worker, provider, escort, Companion, or any number of other words if my use of ‘hooker’ offends. Thank you this has been a PSA by the CYA SW edition)

You might be a hooker if you buy your condoms (all three sizes) in bulk.

You might be a hooker if you calculate bills in sessions, rather than in real money. (ie. the rent is 4 sessions, the utilities are 1 session, those amazing pair of come-fuck-me boots is 2 sessions)

You might be a hooker if your litmus test for make up isn’t if it’s expensive, but if it’s water proof and smear-proof (I still can’t find blow-job proof lipstick, but I’m getting close!)

You might be a hooker if your amazon account seems to always recommend these three things: condoms, hand towels, lubricant. Bonus if there is stockings and fitted sheets.

You might have been a hooker too long when you roll your eyes at a friend who is complaining of having to fold her one load of laundry… because you just got done folding 15 fitted sheets, 4 flat sheets, 12 pillow cases, and 10 body towels.

You might have been a hooker too long when your fridge is full of champagne, bottled water, and strawberries, and nothing else. Likewise, your pantry has 12 different kinds of teas, cocoas, ciders, and about 20 bars of different kinds of chocolate, but no salt, pepper, or spices.

You might have been a hooker too long if you never have to look for an envelope to mail a letter/give a holiday card.

You might have been a hooker too long if your underwear drawer is looking spartan but your stockings drawer is literally overflowing onto the ground.

You might have been a hooker too long if you can go from just out of bed to polished and pretty in under 20 minutes (let’s face it, sometimes last minute appointments fall into our laps)

On Being A Patron

Hello, lovers and dreamers!  Today I want to talk about something I can’t believe I’ve never written about: What exactly is a Patron, why would you ever want to be one, and just exactly why do I offer it anyway?

 

What is a Patron:

Dictionary definition of Patron (and I paraphrasing) is “someone who supports, either financially, creatively, or socially, the arts, an artist, or other creative person”.  In short, a Patron is someone who gives money (usually) to support the lifestyle of someone who they feel has merit as an artist, creator, or other kind of artist.  To /me/, a Patron is someone who chooses to see me regularly, in part because they know they are helping to support me and my endeavors, and they feel that this is a good thing.  My Patrons also continue to see me because they know I treat them like Kings, as they deserve, and I have some kind of addictive quality that they just can’t stay away from! (little joke)

Really, I started my Patron Service to reward the loyalty of my regular clients.  I know in our business there is a veritable sea of providers that one could see, and variety being the spice of life I always assume that a client will (rightfully) go play with many people.  Sometimes, though, they are seeking something a bit more permanent, an arrangement where we can grow and learn about each other, where feelings of mutual care of trust can be established, and a level of comfort and ease can be developed over time.  My Patron Services are ideal for a man like that, because I try very hard to make each tryst, regardless of how many times a man has seen me, comfortable, engaging, erotic and fun, and my Patrons really do appreciate that from me.

Financially, Patronship can work in a man’s favor.  Regularly scheduled appointments mean easier time management, budgeting, and there are never any confusion at to the rate, as the rate never changes.  Depending on the frequency of one’s Patronship desires a man can save a considerable amount of money over time, since as the frequency goes up, the rate per hour goes down, as both incentive and thanks.

Not everyone can be a Patron (if we have trouble connecting mentally or emotionally, Patronship isn’t usually a good fit), and it is obviously my choice whether to extend Patronship at all, but inquires are always welcome and I haven’t, to date, ever had to deny the priviledge to someone.

Why Would I Want to Be One:

Well, bluntly, to save money, to feel good about supporting my endeavors so that I continue to be able to offer wonderful services, and to have the hassle of scheduling, confusion of rates, and so on be a worry of the past.  Here’s some examples of what I mean-

A client wishes to see me once a week, but is unable to budget for my regular rate.  As a Patron, he enjoys a rate that is $100 less than my regular hourly rate, can be assured that I will be ready, wiling, and waiting each week at the same time (removing the hassle of emails and scheduling woes) and his desire to have a lover but also a friend is met within the guidelines of my profession.

And so it goes with all arrangements.  The Patron discounts differ depending on frequency and solidity of a schedule, and the best part of them in my opinion is that I truly get to know you.  Your likes, dislikes, I can easily set up a snack or drink service for you without worrying that you won’t like it, and the relief that is a regular, dedicated schedule can’t be under sold for me.  I much rather have a good, solid foundation schedule than rush and worry all month.

Why I Offer it in the First Place:

I’m pretty sure I’ve already answered this question in the above paragraphs, but to reiterate, I offer Patron Services because I truly believe that loyalty should be rewarded, especially in this kind of situation where there is SO MUCH variety.  I much prefer building relationships over months and years than constantly having to meet and understand a person only once over and over again, though that can be fun sometimes a girl wants to relax with a known entity, ya know?  I think the easiest way to explain it is like this:

I believe in rewarding loyalty, building relationships, and setting comfortable boundaries.  Patronship allows me all of this and more, and I believe that what I do, I do best with a little bit of personal knowledge.

Confession Time: I’m a procrastinator…

But I’ll bet all of you have found that out!  Sadly, this blog has fallen into that strange box of “get to it when there’s time” but then something else more pressing jumps up and down at me and demands my attention, wash, rinse, repeat, and so goes the blog!

I’m sorry, lovers, I really am.  To make up for it, I’m doing something I’ve never done before.  I’m going to put a story on here that I’m working on for my pseudo-memoir that may or may not ever get finished.  Criticism is welcome as long as it’s in a respectful tone, even if it’s negative (actually, especially if it’s negative.  I’ve done some of my best work after getting dressed down by a peer or teacher)

 

OK.  Without further ado, here is a small excerpt of my book-in-progress.  Enjoy.

 

Reflections

 

My alarm app trills it’s pseudo-Japanese arpeggio at 9am.  Blurry-eyed and not a little irritated, I fish it out from beneath my pillows and switch it off.  It’s Monday morning, and it’s time to get ready for work.

Stage One of Morning Ritual: Caffeinate.

I don’t eat breakfast, usually, at least not right as I wake up.  It makes me bloat, sick to my stomach, and I’ve never been one to be hungry in the morning.  Coffee (fresh from my very own french press) sweetened with brown sugar and a pat of unsalted butter suffices for my morning wake up. (Seriously, try the butter trick.  Luxurious, creamy goodness awaits you.)  Once properly caffeinated, I can’t procrastinate any  longer, so it’s on to stage two of Morning Ritual.

Stage Two of Morning Ritual: Get Pretty

I always shower before work.  I know some girls can get away with showering the night before a morning appointment, but I always feel a little grimy after I sleep, especially during the summer.  I use natural, unscented products where I can, but my peppermint body wash is subtle enough I’ve never heard of the perfume migrating off of me onto someone else, plus it makes my skin tingle, so it’s my exception.  Once my hair is clean, and I’ve shaved, bugged, exfoliated and completed other magic potion-y things, I just stand under the scalding spray and breathe in the steam.  I put myself in a state of relaxed expectation, a sort of calm joy with a hint of impish glee.  I’m always my best when I can approach the day with a bit of mischievous verve.  I also might masturbate, but then, who -doesn’t- rub one out in the shower now and again?

Out of the shower, toweled down and stark naked, it’s Lotion Time.  Finding unscented, light weight lotion is more difficult that you think.  I swear Big Lotion is in cahoots with Big Perfume, and they just seem to think all of us ladies -want- to smell like sticky, melted ice cream or like we just rolled in a pile of rotting flowers, but I digress.  I use Burt’s Bees Milk and Honey, which is technically scented, but it soaks in well and smelling like sweet milk seems to agree with me.  Lotion goes everywhere I can reach, but hands, feet, knees and elbows receive special attention.  In the same vein as the lotion (to remove roughness and increase softness, of course) my nails get a once over with an emory board.  Appearances always matter, and in my case that first impression is the difference between a one off client and repeat business.

Hair and make up come next, and that is the most variable part of Stage 2: Get Pretty.  Hair is always soft and touchable, but depending on the client it can be tousled bed head, bouncy, co-ed pony tail, elaborate curls or somewhere in between.  Likewise, my make up can be understated and natural, vintage cat-eye eyeliner and ruby lipstick, or completely bare-faced (which, I won’t lie, still means I have make up on.  What most people think of as “bare faced” actually include tinted moisturizer, setting powder, mascara and lip gloss.  I promise.)  For those with no strong opinion, I usually pull my curled hair back into hair combs and put on my “Bettie Page” face: fresh-faced pin-up with dark eyes and a pouty red lip.  All of my make up is kiss-proof and water-resistant, and I’ve never had a complaint about errant lipstick on the collar (in fact, most women call that 24 hour lipstick “blow job proof lipstick” but I’m classy so I don’t).  It’s these touches that I believe puts me an inch above the competition, (and I can use all the height I can get!) and I pride myself in doing the little things to make each tryst special, memorable, but completely discreet.  Speaking of special, let’s talk about the wrapping of this tasty present.

Stage 3: Dressing

Stage 3: Dressing is always fun.  Without a client suggestion (in which I can be everything from a doe-eyed college girl to a lace-covered vamp) I wear my favorite lingerie: red or black satin, seamed stockings, and garters to match, edge in lace or ribbon.  Easy enough to pull of in the heat of passion, but just delicate enough to require an ounce of restraint.  I find anticipation to be quite the heady aphrodisiac.

Once I am powdered, fluffed, painted and adored, I take a long pose in my full length mirror, and I inspect my handiwork.  A few turns, practice some seductive and flirty facial expression, fondle the girls a bit, marvel in the softness of my body.  It’s always a good rule that if you can’t turn yourself on, how can you expect to turn on anyone else?  This is the last stage, which really isn’t a stage at all:

Stage ??: Reflection

I’ve always been a kind of voyeur, I can’t help it.  By studying my own movements I can always find ways to improve- turn out the hip, bend that knee, lift up the chin more- and I have a distinctly alluring fantasy to offer up to my lucky client.

My work phone chimes: my first appointment of the day is parking.  I send a flirty text in reply, letting him know I’m anxiously waiting with bated breath.  He hits the door code and I buzz him in.  As I open the door to my Love Nest for him to slip through, I smile my wicked smile and throw my arms around him, for all the world welcoming back a long lost lover.  As we pull away from my greeting kiss, I can see in his eyes he is quite taken with me, already, and I know all my preparations are worth every minute.

 

How To Survive A Cancellation

Hello lovers and dreamers!  I do hope that you are enjoying the fantastically sunny day here in my favorite city, and it is just so sweet of you to come by and visit!  Today’s post is a bit tongue in cheek, a bit ribald, a bit, well, just funny!  Know that there is no malice behind this post nor is there any bad blood.  Let’s laugh together!

However…

Cancellations just suck, don’t they?  As a provider, I spend a good hour or so getting ready for every appointment, not to mention the hours it can take “off the clock” to schedule with someone new. So to have my hopes of sexy fun dashed last minute (usually due to unforseen circumstances, truly) just puts a stutter in my day.  It’s natural to feel bummed out, maybe a little frustrated, even miffed.  BUT!  As it happens, I’ve come up with some pretty fool-proof things to do to boost up that mood a bit, and maybe feel like you haven’t simply wasted an hour (or more) of your precious time!

 

  1. Practice a new make up technique: I’m so boring with my makeup.  Concealer, powder, eye shadow, liner, lipstick.  It’s all the same, I can do it in my sleep (well, no I can’t but you see the hyperbole for what it is).  No matter the fun pictures or “so easy!” how to’s I find on YouTube I never seem to pull the trigger and actually try something new!  So, this time I decided to go an entirely different direction with my eye makeup and highlighting. Maybe you learn something new (pastel pink is a good color on me), maybe you learn a new trick (hide under eye circles with yellow pigment!), maybe you fail miserably (I can not be trusted with traditional liner pencils. I will ruin them in my quest to sharpen them perfectly) but here’s the good news: NO ONE has to see it or even know about it! You’ve just eaten up at least half an hour!
  2. Find an involved hair tutorial and test it out.  I know this sounds the exact same as number 1, but trust me, it’s way different (and takes up way more time) This is how I learned to perfect my victory rolls cheat. (photographic proof below)
  3. Dust under something. No, stay with me! If you are anything like me, I spend a good 30 minutes or so before an appointment sweeping, dusting, wiping down or fluffing up things so it looks neat as a pin.  I organize, I stack, I even out and fold.  But there is something that I’m not really proud of: I really dislike wiping down my baseboards.  Call it a mental block, call it laziness, but I just don’t. like. it. So, I have decided that when I get stood up for whatever reason I resolve to do at least one round with my fancy duster thing on my baseboards.  If you regulate that one distasteful job to a (hopefully) rare occurrence like a cancellation or no show it seems far less daunting, right?
  4. I’m not even going to sugar-coat this, but get some “self love” time in!  (OK that was still pretty sweet) One of the best pieces of advice my mentor gave me was to always, always, always be excited for your engagement.  Now, most might have taken that to mean get amped up, look pretty, treat him like a long-lost lover come home again.  However, MY mentor was a crazy sex freak (in the best of ways, holla lady!) and spelled it out for me: m-a-s-t-u-r-b-a-t-e. Before every engagement. Not necessarily to completion, you of course want to save all the extra fun stuff for when you are together, but it’s the best way to get that alluring glow in your cheeks, that heady aroma in the air, and hey, masturbating feels awesome, why wouldn’t you do it? So, if you have an hour to kill, maybe it’s the perfect time to rev up that dopamine and oxytocin generator and go to town!
  5. Take a nap.  This might just be me, but I love naps. Need I say more?

 

So there you have it, darlings, five spectacular ways to take the sting out of a cancellation.  Now that it’s getting to be gorgeous again we can probably add to the list “take a walk outside” or “read a book on the roof” or “go pick flowers in the park”, but I wanted to keep things pretty specific to in doors and in studio.  I can’t lie, with the odd engagement fizzling right at go time, I’ve had a lot of time to think about these things. You can’t ever be disappointed if you have a proper back up plan!

 

(Oh, and here’s my little experiment with victory rolls.  The secret hack is to pull the side hair out at almost 90 degrees then curl it -back- and pin)

Image

SIZE MATTERS!

Ha!  Did you think I was talking about the size of a man’s tackle? Not so, silly dears!  Confidentially, I’ve NEVER met a set of twig and berries that I didn’t like.  I’m talking, of course, about condom sizing.

Did you know that condoms come in different sizes?  And I’m not just talking about “normal” and “magnum”, either.  Condom manufacturers diligently test, measure, and I guess focus group test their condoms, and not all condoms are created equally.  Condoms vary in base width, tip width, length and thickness, sometimes greatly and sometimes minutely.  Since the biggest complaint I hear about condoms are “I don’t feel anything”, followed closely by “they are way too tight/loose/baggy/chafing” I thought it was high time I look into the matter, to hopefully shed some (red) light onto the subject.

(This is a note to say that I’ll only be looking at condoms available in the US.  I’ve found out that Europe has 93 different sizes of condoms!  I’ll bring back one of their sample packs when I go to Europe this summer!)

So, let’s begin!

Continue reading

Double your pleasure, double your fun…

Duos!  Duo Duos!  Do duos!!  *sorry, I couldn’t help myself*

Hello my lovely people!  Right at this very second it is “slushing” outside.  Not raining by any means, but its way too wet to be considered snow.  And it falls on you in freezing gobs…  brrrrrr!  I’m so glad to have a cozy love nest to curl up in, drink cocoa, and read erotica.

But enough about my evening!  I’m here to talk about some of my very favorite women, and perhaps entice one or two to write me!

First off, we have Sofina!  Sofina is an absolute doll.  She has a ridiculously curvy frame with some of the best hips I’ve ever seen.  A natural brunette, Sofina  has longish hair with some very cute blunt bangs.  If you are very good, she’ll even keep her glasses on for you!  Sofina is definitely the “geek” in my little cadre.  If you have a need for discussing the latest sci-fi show, or debating the merits of a character’s actions in a nerdy novel, Sofina is your girl.  She and I have been known to geek out together and it can be quite the scene! (Oh, did I mention the boobs?  She has huge tracks of land!)

Next, we have Vera Larkin!  The beautiful Vera is a fashion chameleon.  Currently, she has a short mod-style hair cut that is a lovely auburn color.  She has flawless porcelain skin, and it is quite a treat to hear her purr as you stroke your hand over her body.  Vera is my favorite short person, because I’m actually taller than her!  (I’m never taller.  Ever) Standing a petite 5′ 1″ she has the demure thing down, but she can be a bit of a spitfire in the bedroom.  (Oh, and Ms Vera’s lovely baubles are also a bit more than a handful!)

Lastly, (but not least, by any means) is my newest partner in crime is Miss Poppy Black!  It was a fortuitous meeting that brought her and me together, and you know what they say, when fate intervenes no man can stop it!  Poppy is a bohemian dynamo with some seriously sexy moves.  She is long and lean and very… perky.  She has a short pixie cut right now that really brings out her eyes, and gently sun-kissed skin that is so very soft.  I’ve taken this adorable young lady under my wing, but honestly she can fly pretty well solo now!  I can tell you that she is smart and fierce, and she can decorate a room impeccably.

Now, if any of these lovely, sexy, flirty ladies appeal to you, you can always e-mail me!  I do have a few pictures of them all on my website too 😉

Next post should be an article on something I have mixed feelings about: body hair.  Ciao for now!

Don’t Tell Anyone, But I Rather Enjoy This!

Hello my lovelies!  You will NEVER guess what it is I did this week.  No, really, try guessing I promise you won’t get it right!

 

 

 

Wait, who said “PHOTO SHOOT”, way there in the back?  ….  Well, fine yes that happened, but guess again!  There was more to it than just that!

 

 

OK OK I’ll just say it:  Everyone’s favorite red-headed siren has gone and turned herself into a smouldering brunette vixen!  Before everyone revolts and heads for the door, let’s just take a breath and remember that this is me we are talking about.  So of course I still have lovely cherry red high lights!  I decided that with the coming of Winter I could do well to tone things down and then just ramp up the contrast a bit.  I’ve even trimmed my hair down in the style of my idol, the irrepressible Bettie Page (granted my hair isn’t near as long, but the resemblance is there!).

 

But as we all (should) know, in this business one must keep one’s pictures up to date and fresh.  So, with the help of a very good girl friend, and over a few glasses of wine (guilty as charged!) we shot what I think might be the best shoot I’ve had to date.  We decided to go more boudoir than I’ve done previously, but with a bit of camp and warmth that I do try to convey in all my shoots.  This was the first time I’ve used my space to such a degree for photos, as well, so if anyone is curious as to what my little love nest really looks like, it’ll give you a few glimpses.

 

By now I can hear to yelling, “Enough talk!  Where are the pictures?!”  And to that I just have to say, patience!  I was far too excited NOT to tell you guys all about it, but I won’t be getting them back until Saturday.  I can say that this blog will be the first place I post my favorites, and over the next month or two I’ll be rolling out new ones.  I have to keep you guys wanting more, don’t I?

 

So, new hair, new photos, and soon, new(ish) body?  It’s true!  I’ve taken on a personal trainer that I think will really work me into a (more) pleasing shape, without taking away from my luscious curves that so many find delicious.  My goals are to better emulate some of my favorite pin up and burlesque idols, and one does that with defined curves, long, lean legs, a killer bosom and a very pert bottom!  Before I’m deluged with “But Magdalene, you have that already!  Don’t change!”  I’m not looking to lose 50 lbs and hope for fame as a conventional model!  I’m quite the opposite of conventional, wouldn’t you say?  What I want to do is sculpt what is already there.  Hell, I very well may GAIN weight because (and repeat this over and over) muscle weighs more than fat.  And I like a bit of muscle on my women, don’t you?

 

This entire transformation does have a secondary goal, though.  And here I am being completely open and honest with my favorite readers:  As of January 1st, 2014, I will be raising my rates to 300/hr.  I’m beginning school in earnest and I need to be able to focus more on my studies than on my inbox.  I want desperately to keep my favorites happy and close to me, so I’m offering a grandfather plan (can we call it something other than that?  I don’t want to think of my grandfather when discussing the finer points of the bedroom!) If, as of January 1st, 2014, you have seen me within the last 6 months you will be welcome to enjoy my current regular rates for the following 6 months.  Does that sound fair?  Keeping some spread sheet somewhere that says who gets my old rate vs who gets my new rate sounds like a headache I don’t want, so I’m letting it stand now: Previous friends are invited to use my 2013 rates for the first 6 months of 2014.  At that point everything goes back to “zero” as it were, and the rates are the same across the board.

 

I know that this bump will be a deal breaker for some of you, and I will be terribly sad to see you go.  I of course am always good for a reference, and can even steer some in the direction of a lady I think you might click with.  I’m happy to field questions privately through email, and I appreciate keeping derisive comments to yourselves (not that any of you, dear readers, would try and argue me out of a personal financial decision)  I have to put most of my energy towards my education, and smart women are so very sexy!  (Speaking of sex, can you take a guess at what I’ll be studying?  If you were in the vicinity of “the psychology of sex” then you’re right!)

 

BUT!  That is far away and we are still here together!  My spiced cider was a big hit last week, so I think I’m going to continue to trend.  I think it would serve me to get a special pot just for keeping cider warm for visitors.  I’m trying to come up with other ideas for little nibbles that we can feed each other in between romps, and I can’t seem to come up with anything past chocolate bites, nuts, and berries.  Surely there is something else I’m missing!

Until next time my darlings!

Travel Plans, Portland…. HO!

(yes, I made a pun. I’m punny.)

My lovers and dreamers, guess what I did that I promised I wouldn’t do? That’s right, drop off the edge of cyber-world. What is a girl to do? Luckily, as penance I have something just daring and delicious in the works, so keep faith and hold on to your socks.

Speaking of socks! (here) that I’ve listed what I think are most if not all contingencies concerning my travel. Obviously I have nothing down dictating multi-day excursions, and the reason being I haven’t quite figured out a proper rate scale there. I would rather take into account the wheres, whys, how longs and whens before setting a number to a week or more journey. A trip to Hawaii and surrounding islands for a week is quite a different beast than a four-day slamfest in Las Vegas! (I know, because I’ve done both!)

I’m curious, my darlings, where have been your favorite vacation spots? Where would you go again, or (and here’s a fun game) pretend that money is no object: what is your dream destination? Personally, I am torn between Japan (and Okinawa) and trekking through western Europe. I do hope that one day I can tick both of those off my list, and maybe even climb Mt. Kilimanjaro in heels!

I am not a victim.

Hello my lovelies.  May I be serious for a moment?

I know we have fun.  We joke and tease and gripe about little foibles and idiosyncrasies in this community.  I know I’ve had a rant or six about this or that, and I am so glad that I have a readership that loves me anyway.

Recently I had a most disturbing conversation with someone.  I’ve known this person tangentially for a few years through mutual friends, and I would consider them fairly intelligent, sex positive, and open minded.  Apparently, there is a limit to everything, and there are some issues that transcend political leanings or even sexual or cultural orientation.

I won’t try to list the conversation verbatim, as it was long and drawn out and honestly I wouldn’t be able to do it justice.  It will suffice to say that this was a conversation about sexual assault victims, coercion, and misogyny.  I’ll bet you can guess where the conversation went.

This person spent the better part of an hour describing why I am a victim of patriarchy by actively allowing men to sexually assault me.  I am somehow being forced into this profession because of dire circumstance or desperation.  All I need do is walk into any battered women’s shelter and beg for help, and they could set me up with project housing and a minimum wage job so I could “leave this filth behind”.  I was speechless, and for those of you who know me, that’s kind of a big deal.

I am not denying that there are women, men, and children out in the world right this second who are forced into sex work.  Some are manipulated into it by a “boyfriend”.  Some are addicted to drugs and this is how they get their fix.  Some are literally chained up and abused like animals in cages.  Guess what?  I am none of those things.  Equating what I do with the horrors of trafficking and slavery is offensive, as it draws attention away from the real victims.

Sex work, when entered into freely, performed happily, and having the ability to leave it behind, is not something people need saving from.  My work is a calling, if you want to know the truth of it.  I do good.  I create bonds and heal soul and heart wounds.  I give a good time and a sense of freedom and youth.  This person didn’t even seem to hear me when I tried to defend what I did, and began berating these “so-called clients” as abusers, rapists, cheaters and dogs hungry for meat.  How could a man treat a sex worker like a real woman, they argued, if they are literally buying her body?  Of course, we know that you never -buy- a body.  You are renting intimacy by the hour.  Buying implies ownership, and no one will ever own me.    Buying implies possession, as one would possess a chair or model plane.  If I own this chair, it is within my rights to re-paint it, or saw off one leg, or even break it up for fire wood.  I am not a possession, and one does not possess me.

Let me be clear, lest I receive a bunch of tut-tutting.  I am only speaking from my personal experience, as a “privileged” sex worker.  I come from a solid home, attended college, and choose this work out of desire instead of desperation.  I speak of those like ME, not the drug-addicted street walker, (though it’s not like every street walker is addicted to drugs), nor the underage girl being passed back and forth like a rag doll.  No one deserves treatment this person assumes happens to us all, but they were blind to the idea that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t a black or white issue.  We live in shades of gray, and this is no different.

This person and I had heated words, and I’m not going to lie, I really was itching to introduce my fist to their smug face.  I am used to being belittled and scorned for my profession, from men and women alike.  But this was the first time that I honestly felt angry.  Pushing victimhood onto someone such as myself is not only ignorant, but it’s absolutely no help to anyone.  Worse, this person denigrates the men who seek out women such as myself as ravening hounds, slavering at the idea of a woman who can’t say “no”.  Penalties should be higher for men caught in the act, and even castration was lobbied about for repeat offenders.  I wasn’t even sure if this person was even acknowledging my presence at this point.  As insane as this person’s rant was, it was a sad thing to know that there are others who feel this way.

This blog was started to tell a story: The Happy Hooker with a Heart of Gold.  I wanted to show that this profession can be satisfying, even amazing.  I wanted to show that this was 100% MY choice, MY decision, and MY ass on the line if anything were to go awry.  I wanted to show how fulfilling this calling has been for me, how I’ve seen hearts mended and self-esteems boosted with my help.  I am now going to start writing this blog with the idea that I will spit in the eye of this person who tosses the baby out with the bathwater, just because they can’t see that there is a huge difference between what I do, and what sex traffickers do.  I am with them on one point: We do not need any more victims of the sex trade OR human trafficking.  I encourage everyone who reads this to support one or more of the local and national organizations who’s goal it is to end human trafficking.  I donate to NW SWOP, the Sex Worker Outreach Program whenever I can.  Their mission is to educate, protect, and support sex workers and former sex workers, while also trying to influence policies that would make sex work safer for women and men.

I know this won’t be the last time some well-meaning person will tell me that I don’t have to do this work, or that I’m hurting myself and my future.  It won’t be the last time I patiently explain the differences between victims and myself, and try to get them to understand that in my case I am as free as I can be.  I will have to prove that I am not being beaten, drugged, coerced, or otherwise forced into doing this.  Sometimes it’s not enough.  Sometimes they don’t even want to hear it, as it messes up their thinking.  But I will continue to write my stories, I will continue to love what I do, and I will continue to fight the good fight against ALL human trafficking.

What exactly IS a Patron?

pa·tron

/ˈpātrən/

Noun
  1. A person who gives financial or other support to a person, organization, cause, or activity.
  2. A customer, esp. a regular one, of a store, restaurant, or theater.

 

Some of my sexy gentlemen have been asking questions about just exactly what this Patron thing is all about.  Let me give a brief explanation:

I believe loyalty should be rewarded.  I also believe that building relationships and rapport creates a much better session than a single one-off with a lady like me.  Therefore, those men who feel similarly receive a bit of a financial break as a small thank you from me.

Dedicated once a month– This is for the man who requires a strict schedule to blend seamlessly into his life.  I dedicate a specific day just for you, each month, for your convenience.  (this is at my current hourly rates)

Dedicated twice a month– This is for the active gentleman who requires a “therapist” or “personal trainer” to keep him charged up and refreshed.  Twice a month I will set aside a day and time that you have chosen (either the 1st and 3rd week, or the 2nd and 4th, whichever is easiest for you) and as a small bonus, $25 off each hour.

Dedicated weekly– This is for the truly luxuriant man who feels a regular schedule keeps him fit, happy, and healthy!  Studies have shown that regular (read, once or twice a week) physical release boosts dopamine and melatonin levels, regulates hormones and raises one’s testosterone levels.  It’s also heart healthy and damn fun!  This connoisseur can expect a $50 discount per hour.

Option of Pre-Payment– What if all of the above sounds good, but you aren’t able to lock down a specific day every week/month?  One option is prepayment.  a Green Dot MoneyPak card with the prescribed amount ($250+) sent to me in the beginning of each month.  With payment out of the way, you can then find time in your schedule while still reaping the benefits of Patronage.

I also have an option, not specifically mentioned on my website, where $1500 prepayment secures two separate overnights, including a home cooked meal, dessert after, and even breakfast in the morning.  My studio is well-equipped for such adventures, and I’m not afraid to cook bacon naked!  For those men who have developed this kind of relationship with me, I feel I become more therapist and companion than a hired playmate.  Note that this special offering isn’t for everyone, but I have had very few encounters with someone I simply did not click with.  It’s most definitely a niche offering, which is why I haven’t ever spoken of it so blatantly until now.  Inquiring minds just had to know!