Suddenly it’s beautiful December

07/12/2017 § Leave a comment

It’s a Wednesday. I wake up in the darkness of pre-6am, practice yoga, go to a quiet eight hour shift in a corporate law firm, work for another two hours which include pissing on a guys face and making him suck another guys dick, practice my aerial hoop routine ready for a performance Saturday night, shoot a photo for the August page of our studios upcoming calendar, come home and hoover my bedroom and eat a banana with almond butter and wonder if meditating will force me to face my constant mild nagging guilt of eating animals and push me into vegetarianism, decide no it probably won’t be enough and possibly nothing ever will, go to sleep.

He wanted me to text him when I entered the hotel so he could leave the door on latch, and I enter to find him restrained to the bed and blindfolded with a cock cage in place. There were two piles of money on the side and I didn’t go near them initially, it wasn’t necessary. Later I said ‘I’m assuming one is for me and one for Ben’ and he said ‘Yes, the larger one is for you’.

It often pays to be a woman, at least to be a relatively attractive woman in England in 2017. I can not deny the advantages. I think my life would look so incredibly different if I’d been born male. I’m not sure if it would be better or worse but I think I would have made so many different choices from birth that my life would be unrecognizable from the one I lead now.

Sometimes when other sex workers are with me and a client, they say things that indicate they enjoy what they do and get genuine pleasure from it. When this happens I always try and look at their face and detect whether this is the truth or a lie. The truth is that probably, like me, everything is somewhere in the middle.

I’ve been looking at recipes for eggnog’s and Tom and Jerry’s and vegetable lasagnas and risottos and I have so many beautiful things to cook and make and when I finally run out of food next week I will do a large shop and get everything I need in. I need to clear out first. I need to use every last scrap.

People are fascinating and you can never predict them. You can never assume. I wore nice underwear for my first meet with J the Nazi and he was disappointed. Not at me, he understood I couldn’t have known, but he likes plain cheap cotton panties.

It seems to be more common than usual lately that male clients want to be controlled in a caring motherly girlfriend type way. I’m glad, the bitch mother/caring mother style suits me best above other dominatrix styles such as being the cold princess or pure giver of pain. They want cuddles and skin contact. Perhaps it’s the month, the loneliness of winter and December and Christmas. We all feel it though I have avoided its sting well with friends, family, John. I am not too lonely at all this Christmas, thanks to the life I have created and a spoonful of pure dumb luck.

 

 

 

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05/12/2017 § Leave a comment

It’s been a long time since I felt this vulnerable. The trick is to pour love on fear. Pour love on myself and pour love on his knife or his apathy.

All I can think about is his cock and his mouth and his beautiful mind.

What’s the worst that could happen? I give and not be taken. I receive no love in return.

Queen of Pain

04/12/2017 § Leave a comment

05 November 2017

How to do right by yourself and by everyone around you?

Tonight I am sitting in bed listening to Florence and the Machine’s How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful and I am crying. I am waiting for the phone call which tells me I can go out and earn money tonight, keeping 40% of what I make whilst the agency keeps 60%. I have a sore throat and a heavy cold and an anxious mind and a sad heart. I have begun working a job that no-one knows about and there is no-one I can tell, which is isolating. I have to lie to everyone around me.

I am hurting a man who loves me. I have feelings for a man who I believe doesn’t have them back. I am lonely and I am scared. None of this is a choice, feelings are not a choice. Everything is the only way it can be, the only way that is true. I must follow this path even if it leads to misery and darkness.

The best part of being financially desperate is that you feel alive all of the time, another is that your life can take creative turns, another is that in some ways you are free, another is that you always wake early in the morning to see the sun rise, because panic jolts you awake. One man in my life is going to prison between 1 and 14 years, another tried to kill himself two nights ago, another is about to leave me due to something out of my control that isn’t my fault.

There are lies in the frost but the rain exposes us all and it’s beautiful.
Have you seen the rain? It’s gonna wash us all away.

Before Escape, The Suffering

04/12/2017 § Leave a comment

October, 2014

Sometimes, I think, I do bad things because I don’t believe I deserve to consider myself a good person.

Tonight, I walked home clutching my plastic bag in my fist, the roads littered with rubbish.

I refuse to be someone who thinks of themselves as not worthy anymore.

It’s embarrassing to tell myself in the mirror ‘I love you’, but the difficulty of it shows its necessity. I can’t look myself in the eye when I say it and when I do, I cry.

Last night I wet the bed. I haven’t done that since I was a very young child and even as a toddler I only did it a few times. The possibility of doing this wasn’t even on my radar, if the day before I’d had to list a hundred unusual things I could do in the night I don’t think it would have made it on there.

I know that even afterwards my bladder was bursting with pain when I moved in the night to the bathroom. I know the pee was long and heavy and clear. It’s not enough of a reason, it’s not like I haven’t desperately needed to urinate before.

Have you ever wet the bed in adulthood completely out of the blue? Do you know why?

I have a friend who has started sleepwalking in her sleep. I am dazed and anxious most of the time this week. I cried uncontrollably last night on the phone to my mother. She didn’t think of it as a big deal and continued to talk to me as if it wasn’t happening at all, which was exactly what I needed and why she is the perfect person to call.

Climb Inside You

12/11/2017 § Leave a comment

I’m a cheese string of sadness and I’m happy really, with my layers tucked away inside. I don’t need or want to share. Everything is under control. I want a few nights alone in my room to wallow a little in my sadness, feel it run through me and hold still.

I watch montage of a heck. The love Courtney and Kurt have for each other overwhelms me. There is nothing in the world like intense love between two people. The sharing of sweat and blood and spit and skin as they go about their lives. I crave this lack of personal space.

I am wrong, alone. I am one hand with nothing to clap. I am a meal with no-one to feed. I am more driven, more successful and more adventurous, but I am submissive and lonely and I submit to no-one and it is wrong.

Something happened in my life and I instantly thought who to tell, who to share with, who to soundboard to check if I am making the right decision, if I was OK. But there was no-one to ask.

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10/11/2017 § Leave a comment

What comes out my mouth
I hear in my parents voice
And I want to take my heart out

What do I say when there’s no-one around to listen

07/11/2017 § Leave a comment

A side effect of that kind of work is that for long chunks of time I am utterly done with being sexy. Presenting myself as sexy and feeling sexy appeals to me a lot less than it used to. I am excited by being my childish self, by scruffy braids and no makeup, by wooley coats and walks outdoors and lipstick free smiles. I am excited by men who value this also, who enjoy non-sexual things and like to cuddle and be friendly.

I dreamt about kiwi fruits, making a white sculpture of a bloated happy pregnant figure, my dad attempting to take his life with a shotgun and nearly succeeding and finding out about his attempt to kill himself during the Halloween party at my house last weekend. My ex-boyfriend knocking on the door to tell me and then driving me back to Nottingham with me in my pyjamas and crying. Halloween make-up swiftly removed.

I dream my reality or possible realities and so reality and dreams blur together. I dreamt I was making quilts for comfort, I dreamt I had a pussy power tshirt, I dreamt bad things about my new man and good things about my old, I dreamt I was being questioned by a man somewhere about something and it was unpleasant but I don’t remember what it was about.

I dreamt that he’d sucked 46 cocks not 3, that he’d lied but it didn’t matter. I dreamt I had a stack of six pizzas and they were all different and all on their last legs and I had to freeze them quick. I dreamt, again, that my dad had shot himself in the head. And I dreamt many other things besides though I can’t remember what but a friend who slept in my bed with me one night said I muttered all sorts of things quickly, and the only bit she caught was ‘kill them both’ which I said calmly.

Often when I spend the night with John he says I talk in my sleep. Once it was something sexual towards him which makes a lot of sense and is a funny story, once I pointed at the corner of the of the room and said something about there being faces. Who knows what I say when there’s no one around to listen.