when it comes down to it, i am not much of a crier. i can definitely be sentimental, and sometimes i will get weepy over art (including music, theatre, etc.), but i would say it’s fairly rare. if i do cry, i tend to save it for my own private time. there are friends who have known me for ten plus years, and i know that they can count the number of times they’ve seen me cry on less than one hand’s worth of fingers. (note: this is all relevant backstory.)
one of the places our house advertises is redbook. for those of you that don’t know: redbook is a website where sex workers advertise their services. they also have message boards (which i don’t recommend reading–so much vitriol and disrespect!), and other ways for providers to network with clients. on the BDSM advertisement space, there are a lot of escorts who branch out into domme/sub work, and offer full service experiences. as i’ve mentioned before, i work in a space that doesn’t offer sex. we don’t do handjobs. we don’t do blowjobs. my, ahem, holes are all off limits. it’s simply not something we do.* advertising in the same space as some domme escort ladies is (hopefully obviously) that we will also provide the same services, even if we explicitly state that we do not. i, personally, do not even get completely nude (golden showers excepted); i keep my panties ON.
today, i had a session with a gentleman who found me through redbook. when we were negotiating, he mentioned something about “massages”, and i reiterated that we do not perform any kind of sex. he was interested in body worship (for those who don’t know what that is, there’s the internet), and a golden shower. it was going to be a short session, only half an hour. since he had booked with fairly little notice, i started chugging down water once i started getting ready. (the ability to do this kind of work is really not as glamorous behind the scenes as you might assume.) after i stepped out of our negotiation to put my cash aside, i definitely had some lingering reservations. i had a feeling he would be a wanker of sorts, and oh boy! my instincts were spot on.
we started the session**, and i could tell he was nervous. often, with newbies, even if they want someone super domme-y, i will massage their shoulders and talk to them like a normal person before we completely jump into the scene. i don’t know what the standard protocol is (or if there is even such a thing), but i have found it to be an easy way to calm their frenetic nerves into an energy that can be more manageable to work into the scene. sex workers are scary, apparently! as he got more comfortable, we started with the body worship. i had him start massaging my legs, taught him to ask for permission when he wanted to take off my shoes and so on, so forth. as we continued with the body worship, i began to realize that he kept trying to gradually creep his digits and his mouth closer and closer to my ass crack. although i corrected him numerous times, i finally had to say to him, “i told you: no sex. you don’t get to touch my asshole, basically.”
this may not seem like a big deal when i write it out like this, but it actually requires a lot of energy to fend someone off this way. although i have the benefit of being in control of what is taking place, it is still vulnerable to be half naked in a room with a complete stranger. especially a complete stranger who has the likelihood of being a complete creep. even with that power, it demands a lot of effort to spend even a brief ten minutes warding off unwanted advances and behaviors.
clearly dejected by this news, his shoulders slumped and he replied, “well, that’s what i’m into.”
i repeated, “that counts as sex, sweetie. so, sorry, but no go.”
i could tell he was thinking, “damn. this was a waste of my money.”
we ended up salvaging the session with some goofy sensation play; i put a blindfold on him and made him guess what tools i was using on his body. i ended up laughing a lot and lightheartedly teasing him (read: i turned on the girlish charm), and then managed to give him a successful golden shower. he showered, i hugged him goodbye, and walked him out. although this is hardly any kind of BDSM worth noting, i would call it a potentially disastrous session salvaged.
i still was rather annoyed that the whole exchange took place, but i also think that folks that push boundaries end up triggering me in some way, even if it’s rather small. while he was showering, a coworker of mine decided this was an appropriate time to approach me about a mistake i made earlier in the day. while i am happy to be corrected, she ended up yelling at me for what was, i believe, a miscommunication. while i think i would have floated off of the session okay otherwise, that pushed me over the edge. after he walked out, i went back into my session room and cry cry cried.
fortunately, the night was salvaged by other sweet coworkers, and i know the miscommunication will get itself worked out. sometimes, though, this work takes a toll.
*sidenote: although some of us do participate in strap on play, and that could easily be argued to be a form of sex. point is: we are the fuckers, not the fucked.
**second sidenote: i have, up until this point, avoided being so graphic about session details out of reverence for my clients. discretion is an incredibly important part of this business, and i respect the vulnerability my clients share with me. however, i feel that reverence must be reciprocal, and if they cannot respect my boundaries, which are an extension of myself, then i see no reason to keep their confidence. at least not in terms of the time we spent together (i would never reveal other personal or identifying details.) and lastly, no, they are not exempt for their misbehavior because i am a sex worker and therefore somehow, this should be expected. so, here we are.