The boys in brown

Tags

clients, cops, country towns, discrimination, fantasy, friends and family, laws, Love, money, personal stories, Relationships, sex industry, Sex Work, south australia, stigma

I used to travel around South Australia and sometimes beyond for a weekend every month in order to sex work anonymously. I had an arrangement with my partner at the time that I could work with his blessing but not in our own city where the chances of me fucking his boss were increased. The first time I went away it was a risk, a financial risk but it felt risky in other ways too because I was not sure what to expect of the town, of the clients, of the accommodation, or any other variable I could imagine. I hired a driver, a friend of a friend. We agreed that I would pay him a flat fee for the weekend to drive me there and back and to all my jobs. He was employed to provide my transport and my security. I was worried that I wouldn’t make enough money to pay him and still make a good profit but I need’nt have, I was very busy. And so my successful out of town business (ad)ventures continued for a couple of years. I have many stories to tell about these trips away, about the clients, the towns, the jobs, the way I felt. But this story is about the time I was kicked out of town by the boys in brown.

It was the third time I had been to this particular seaside town and each time I had had mixed results. The first time I made a fortune and the second time I barely covered costs. But this time was going to be a winner, my add in the local paper had scored me many back to back confirmed bookings and many more enquiries.

On this occasion I had decided to fly rather than drive and with no car I had no requirement for a driver. I arrived in town alone with a reservation for a nice holiday apartment, my mobile phone, my bag of tricks and a booking sheet full of in-call appointments. It was too early to check into my apartment so I wandered around town window shopping and buying supplies for the weekend. The phone was ringing off the hook but it was mostly just my first client pestering to come and see me early. I kept explaining that I hadn’t yet checked into my apartment yet and that I would call him when I was ready. He was very eager.

It is because of over eager clients like him (among other reasons) that I don’t give out my address until I am ready to greet them at the door. I will take the booking and their phone number and give them a general vicinity of my apartment but I make them call me again 10 mins before the booking to get the full details. This stops anyone knocking at my door before I am ready, when I am not there or when I am with another client. It also means that it is only the genuine clients that know exactly where I am. Makes me feel safer.

Eventually the time came when I could head back to my apartment and check in.  I had done my best to choose a holiday apartment that was suitable to work from. And by suitable I mean, no management on premises and definitely no reception that the client had to walk through before getting to me. I also consider things like, security, but not too much security. I want my clients to be able to get from their car to my front door with as little fuss as possible. And so do they generally. This apartment met all the criteria but  the caretakers were hanging around cleaning some of the recently vacated apartments which always make me nervous. And my first client was still calling. I decided to let him come what was almost two hours early because that would mean I would have a two hour break before my next booking and would hopefully rouse less suspicion the from caretakers if they happened to still be hanging around.

I set up my apartment ready for work. In the bedroom I had my tissues and wet ones on one bedside table and massage oil and talcum powder on the other. In one bedside of drawer I have the condoms and lube and the other I have my toys. In an open cupboard I have my costumes, lingerie and dress ups, all aimed at exciting a client or extending a booking or charging extra. Just having them there in view is often enough to help the session along, or plant the seed for a second booking.

I cover the bed with a coverall blanket over all the bedding and place a nicely folded towel on top. When the client comes I unfold the towel for them to lie on decreasing any mess. At the end of the night I get my own pillow from home and take the blanket off the bed leaving fresh bedding for me to sleep in.

I turn the big lights off and the bedside lamps on. I like background music playing, preferably something smooth and sexy with some bass but the clock radio was often all I had.

In the lounge I had porn playing on mute. Purely to encourage longer bookings and to provide a more… inclusive service, not just a bedroom one. Which is why I also had lots of snacks and beverages to offer clients. I had higher prices and discounts for longer bookings trying to decrease clients without decreasing my profits. Mainly because I was scared of being noticed by the hotels I stayed in and so I didn’t want a steady stream of men coming and going. I had the breath mints out, drinks in the fridge, 2 mobile phones and a piece of paper full of names, numbers and times.

I was nearly ready so I gave my first client the details of where to come but asked him to wait 15 more mins and he agreed. I was hoping the caretakers would leave before he came but of course he doesn’t wait he arrives straight away. I should have known by his incessant phone calls. I let him in and I asked him how long he would like to stay for, which is  really just a prompt for “let’s do business”  since we have already discussed on the phone how long. He tells me and I ask for the agreed upon fee. He doesn’t have enough money.

He did the usual “Oh, I’ll go to the bank and come straight back” routine. Its annoying at the best of times but this time, I was anxious because of the caretakers still hanging around the site. I wanted him to stay rather than come and go and come back again so I asked him how much money he had on him and negotiated a shorter service for a lesser fee, just to keep him in my apartment. Again, hoping that the caretakers would leave before he finished.

He paid, he stayed and he loved it. When I showed him out I was happy to notice the caretakers had left. I shut the door behind him, chucked my money with the phones and booking sheet and went to jump in the shower. But there was a knock at the door. I thought it was going to be my annoying client who had already proven a lack of understanding of my way of doing business. I had only shown him out the door less than 5 mins ago, maybe he left his keys behind or something. I hadn’t yet given my address out to anybody else.

So I threw on my dress quickly, no underwear and opened the door. It took me a minute to process who was on the other side, two guys wearing a brown uniform. The country police.

“We have reason to believe you are running a prostitution business from here”

I laughed. “Why on earth would you think that?” I don’t know how convincing I sounded, I usually lie pretty badly, so I’m guessing I was hopeless.

Apparently the caretakers had called them. I couldn’t believe it. “I have had one male friend visit me and you think I am a prostitute!!!?” I wasn’t actually faking my indignation. Apparently my stupid client had said something to one of them on his way up. Something like “Do I pay you?”.

“So one stupid man asks if he pays the hotel caretaker and that makes ME a prostitute? How ridiculous, maybe he was wanting to rent a room or something”.

No, I have to leave the apartment regardless because it is the prerogative of management and they have asked me to leave. It seemed I didn’t have much choice so I agreed to pack my stuff. Both the cops came into the apartment to “help me pack up”.

Take a moment to think back to the scene I described earlier about how I had my apartment set up, what I was wearing, and the money next to the booking sheet, next to my phones. It became obvious what was going on.

They went all good cop/bad cop on me. They took my details and tried to insist I gave them the phone numbers for both the phones. I wouldn’t admit to their allegations and I refused to give them the second mobile number. It would link to my adds. So I told them it was my phone for my straight job and that I did not want them calling me at work accusing me of being a prostitute! I knew my rights, all I have to give is my name date of birth and address. I didn’t have to say anything else.

And THEN the bad cop came in with a camera! He was going to take a photo of me. I hadn’t even been charged with anything. I asked him if I had a right to refuse and he said “oh it’s just something we do now”. I said again “do I have a right to refuse?” He said “sure you can refuse but then I’ll take you down the station and charge you with prostitution”.

By this time in my life I knew the laws pretty much back to front. Probably better than mister bad cop and his good cop partner put together. There is no charge of “prostitution” there are a range of other charges such soliciting, receiving money in a brothel etc, but he didn’t have any evidence for anything. He had one guy, one girl and some porn. Sure they could claim I was going to engage in illegal activity by turning the hotel room into a ‘brothel’ with the booking sheet but it’s not illegal until you do it.

So I refused the photo and told him he had no evidence to press charges. I was relieved when he didn’t try anyway but on the way out he told me that if I tried any other hotel they would find me there too and I believed him. So I gave up. I changed my flights so I could fly home that night and headed out to the airport. I had hours to wait so I sat and drank the wine I had bought for my clients and contacted all my bookings to cancel and let them know what had happened.

One of my clients was so disappointed he asked if he could come see me right there, right now in the airport. After a few wines and a big financial loss this actually seemed like an option. After all I still had the whole afternoon to wait and I was bored. So I agreed. He picked me up in his ute and drove me to a quiet spot not far from the airport.

40 mins later he dropped me back at the airport and I’d almost recovered my loss. And I had another good story.

Double Trouble

Tags

3somes, clients, fantasy, friends and family, money, personal stories, safe sex, sex industry, Sex Work

There was a time in my sex working career when I worked very closely with a very close friend. It all started on the day this girl walked into my life at a sex worker event hosted by SIN. She was about 5 years younger than me, cute, bubbly, opposite in looks but similar in personality to me. We clicked and quickly became friends. We laughed at the same things, had the same taste in music and our values aligned. As friends we complimented each other well, laughed lots, shared lots of stories and supported each other through our life hurdles. My new friend was full of energy, she had lots of ideas and was always telling me about the many ways she was going to make money and/or change the world.

One of those money making ventures that I got involved in was our double trouble act. I admired the guts of this girl, she knew how to work it, everything was an opportunity to her, even our friendship. So we began advertising together and offering a threesome experience to our clients. This was purely a business decision on our part, times were slow and we decided the best way to make money was to get more money out of less clients. We also happened to be very aware of the difficulty of getting a realistic somewhat genuine affordable paid for threesome experience. To book a ‘double’ through an agency it can become quite expensive once you add up the price of two workers plus the many extras, and even then there is no guarantee that the two workers will be comfortable enough with each other to be able to sell the fantasy convincingly. The service might be more mechanical than it would be with two workers who are used to each other. Both of us had been in these situations and knew they were not uncommon. But when you specialise in a service you are in a position to provide a more polished service for a more reasonable price, well in our case, we had a whole range  of prices, to ensure that no client went home before being completely spent.

We encouraged all our clients to see both of us together, If they couldn’t afford that we would offer the other worker to join us for only  part of the service for a smaller fee. We developed a long list of extra services we could offer together for varying amounts of extra money. We decided any amount of money was better than one of us sitting around doing nothing while the other one made all the money.

It was lots of fun working with my friend, we would rent gorgeous waterfront apartments for weekends or a couple of days at a time and order delicious food and drinks and work and work and eat and drink and work and work. The first time you do a booking with someone it can be awkward, especially if it is with a friend. They get to see you in work mode and you get to see them in their work mode. Not to mention you get to lick their nipples, smack their bums and lick their clits which is not something I usually do with my friends. And there is the whole trick to remembering to call them the right names at the right times. Sometimes you get to be part of the their lies to their partners and sometimes you annoy each other and need time out. But friend or not the first time you do a double with another worker can be hard work too. Trying to negotiate not one, but two people in a booking especially if you’re not sure about the other workers boundaries or ways of doing things it can be difficult. In addition the client is often nervous with no idea what to do with two women. But as experienced negotiators and actresses it doesn’t take long for we two workers to find our routine.

There are certain things you need to consider when doing doubles. First of all you have to be clear with the client and the other worker what is expected. In Adelaide a ‘double’ usually only refers to two workers giving their service to the client, whereas a ‘bi double’ means there is interaction between the two workers as well. You may also want to discuss with your co worker their boundaries in regards to things like, kissing, oral, toys, penetration, etc. both with you and the client and it’s a good idea to discuss how much extra you want to charge for what.

Double bookings are funny. When you’re doing them all day and night with the same person for a couple of days straight, they become hilarious. You get your routine down pat. To the point where you make the exact same jokes with every single client, and giggle appropriately in the exact same spots, and moan and groan at the exact same ways and use the exact same lines. There came a point where we were literally doing it in our sleep. Our cute giggle wasnt quite as sexy and convincing the 100th time round.

We got good at our doubles service though.  I learnt some things from all those threesomes including using different coloured condoms. I would have pink and she would have clear and that way we knew when the condom needed to get changed between partners (I told you we take safe sex pretty seriously). I also learnt to look out for my co worker. It was not unusual for a client to take a liking to a particular worker and she would get more of the attention and thus do more of the work. When this happened it was the other workers job to make sure lube was always accessible, tickle, talk dirty, do something to help get him off faster and redirect the client to you if you see your colleague needs a break. We would pull faces and use hand signals to check each others comfort, discuss timing and share a joke.

We made great money together. We went from booking to booking and turned our phones off at midnight. Then we would take a long hot shower, wash our make up off, wash our hair, put on clean and comfortable daggy pyjama’s and count our money. We didn’t just count it we  would roll around in it. I am not even joking, it was not unusual for us to throw the piles of fifty dollar notes up in the air and then pose for photos laying amongst them.

I mean, we would work hard. So it was so much fun to wallow in our rewards. Afterwards we would gather our money back up,tuck it away and make lists about how we planned to spend it before falling asleep in our luxury apartment ready to wake up and do it all again the next day. I cant wait to show those photos to my grandkids.

Stop the Traffic! Peak Hour…

Tags

clients, consent, discrimination, false consciousness, fantasy, feminism, friends and family, laws, money, rants, sex industry, Sex Work, south australia, stigma, the boss, trafficking

Hot topic of the moment – human trafficking. Not to be confused with people smuggling. But feel free to mix it up with sex work and migrant workers, or just Asian women generally. There’s been a lot of media about the problem, politicians are discussing it, feminist and church groups are concerned about it and 4 corners is exposing it. Well I’m calling bullshit and here’s why!

I’ve worked in nearly every brothel in Adelaide for many years and I’ve never worked with anyone or met anyone who has  worked with someone who was being forced into it. If I or anyone I knew, ever worked with someone who was there against their will, we would call the cops.

It makes sense that sex workers would care the most about this sort of thing. If it’s happening, it’s happening in our industry, to our colleagues, in our workplaces, by our bosses and with our clients. Of course we would know and ofcourse we wouldn’t do nothing while this happened to us or our colleagues!

Maybe we don’t know about these sex slaves in our own industry. Maybe they are not in the brothels that I work at, or anyone I know has worked at, but in some secret dark and unknown brothel that no one knows about. Well there are still some people who would need to know about it – the clients.

I’ve seen a lot of clients in my time and I have had a lot of requests. Clients generally seem to prefer workers who want to be there, or are at least very good at pretending they enjoy their job. Most of my clients ask to kiss and cuddle not to have me sad and broken. 

Our clients are not demons. They are just clients. If you went to a restaurant do you want to be served by someone who is being forced to work against their will under awful conditions, or do you prefer to think your waiter is treated well and therefore treats you well? I have faith that there is more business in happy hookers than there is in Asian sex slaves. Not to say that there isn’t any money in Asian sex slaves, but happy hookers can play that character if required.

I have worked in Asian brothels. I worked for 12 months in a brothel that was run by a Chinese sex worker and had many workers, mainly Thai, Chinese, Vietnamese and Korean. These women were not your stereotype victim. They were very often strong, clever, motivated women who worked hard to provide for themselves and often their family. They were also very good business women, who knew how to manipulate the industry to bring in the maximum profit.

That includes playing up to your stereotype, if that’s what will make them money. We all do it. Find our niche and work it. I loved listening to the workers play up their soft accents or act out the submissive Asian girl character for the sake of taking his money. Just like most of us hookers, they knew how to be a mattress actress, while skilfully and assertively negotiating their terms and providing their service without ever breaking character. Until the client leaves. And then its back to loudly laughing and teasing each other, cooking the whole place a feast or yelling down the phone to their family and friends.

And these workers know how to make money.

There are a few well-known cases of rich old white men roaming around South East Asia or poorer parts of India trying save the prostitutes by “buying their freedom” from the brothel that has captured them. In many of these cases the newly freed victim returns to the brothel of their own accord and it’s usually blamed on drug addiction, inability to cope in outside world or economic necessity. But it makes me wonder because I can totally picture a sex worker in a Thailand brothel meeting one of these geezers while they are on shift, he starts talking about buying her freedom and the $$ flashes above his head. She goes down to the boss and says something like “it’s another one of those knight in shining armour fantasies again, I reckon he’s rich, lets tell him its US$5000 to buy my freedom”. She goes back to his hotel with him and tells him sad stories, he then takes her “home to her village” before he trots off to write his award-winning saviour book and she goes back to work having made a months wages with that one client.

In the Asian brothels I have worked at, I have been treated better than in many of the other brothels I have worked at. The working conditions were better. My cut of the service fee was fairer, and I felt like part of a family. Lots of the workers came and went, but that’s because most of the workers I worked with in Adelaide Asian brothels actually lived in other states. They came to Adelaide to do sex work because they wanted to remain discreet. They didn’t want to do sex work in their own small communities in their own home states because of the stigma we all face. But we felt like part of a family. Often the workers would live and work in the brothel for a few weeks at a time before returning home and the coming back every few months. This meant our workplace was also someone’s house so we’d share home cooked meals and intimacies that you share when you spend that much time in someone’s living space. This community was networked and looked after each other.

I have been to parts of Asia and Pacific countries and hung out with sex workers there. When I was in China recently, all the sex workers I met wanted to come to Australia. They asked me so many questions about how they could get here. Many knew someone, who knew someone, who could help them come here for a considerable fee. Many knew people who had decided to take that option and had been happy with their business arrangement. No one knew people who had been tricked into doing sex work in another country. Although some people knew some sex workers who had been mislead about work conditions or contract arrangements, but they weren’t told they were going to be a waitress.

Why would traffickers have to trick someone to come to Australia to work as a sex worker, when I could right now give you the contact details of 20 gorgeous young Chinese sex workers who would pay you money to bring them here to work happily and voluntarily in your brothel? They can even  play a perfect game of submissive sex object if you’re willing to pay.

Why would someone take these risks for an unhappy unwilling worker when other sex workers and our clients will not tolerate it?

It doesn’t ring true to me. It isn’t logical. There is no evidence and I call bullshit.

And it’s more than that. I was reading this great book about the history of sex work in Australia and it talked about in the early 1900’s the media and public concern with the “white slave trade” back then it was all about young white girls accepting overseas domestic jobs with evil European or Japanese villains who would then trick them into prostitution. There was very little evidence of this however and infact it seems there is a lot of evidence of workers of all nationalities migrating for better work conditions, include young white Australian female sex workers. It also tells of how the Salvation Army and many feminists attempted to save sex workers by forcing them to work in laundries in sweatshop like conditions, and had their pays docked to cover lodge and boarding. It’s still the feminists and the salvation army who are trying to raid our workplaces, rescue sex workers and rehabilitate us into a less than suitable job.

That rings true to me.

And it’s more than even that. If people care about us, how come the cops don’t do anything when you tell them your boss is withholding pay or taking unlawful fines or blackmailing you but they jump on the trafficking bandwagon, taking it upon themselves to raid Asian brothels intimidating everyone they find. How come the same feminists who fight to close our workplaces now act like they care about us but don’t listen when we fight for workers rights. How come the church groups that used to be about saving us from our sins now want to force themselves upon asian sex slaves and call themselves an anti trafficking group. And how come adult business groups (big bosses of big legal brothels) are so quick accuse their competition of trafficking, the same brothels they used to accuse of spreading disease. Why don’t any of these people care about trafficking in other industries? And how come I still haven’t met any of these trafficked sex slaves. It’s because these groups have seized the few sad stories they have ‘exposed’ to serve their purpose and further their agenda. Sex workers have been yelling for years about our problems, but no one is interested in sensible boring workers rights and anti discrimination strategies.

Sex workers DO experience exploitation at work. Migrant workers DO have barriers to accessing support and services. Our immigration and our Visa systems DO make Asian sex workers vulnerable. We DO want allies and attention to these issues. We DO need urgent legislation reviews and reforms.

But you’re getting it all wrong. Media hysteria and more cops and reactionary policy and strengthened stereotypes and preconceived ideas and misinformation and salivating over discovered victims and villains and then some more cops. It isn’t helping!

I wont leave this here,  I’ll write more about this very soon, in particular about the real life harms of the sex trafficking rhetoric and what sex workers want to address these issues. Up next in the ‘stop the traffic’ series is ‘the car accident you can’t look away from’ followed by ‘the scenic route’ .

Do you ever have female clients?

Tags

couples, disability, escort, fantasy, female clients, feminism, money, personal stories, sex industry, Sex Work, sexuality, south australia, stigma

This post is part of the Sex Work 101 series, along with other popular questions and answers such as what was my most interesting booking? What do you tell your kids? And various other questions to be answered in the future such as, do you pay tax and what’s the worst booking you’ve had. But this post will answer the ever popular question about whether I see female clients.

Yes. I have had female clients. But not many. The majority of my clients, by far are men. And I am fairly confident in saying the majority of most sex workers clients are men.

Most of the women I have seen were part of a male/female couple, who had booked me to join them. I have done many many bookings with couples over the years and have always really enjoyed them. When I take a booking for a couple I generally ask to speak to both of them to make sure everyone is equally as enthusiastic. The last thing I want is to get caught in the middle of an awkward relationship drama.

More often than not I am told that it was the womans idea to hire a hooker because she was wanting to experiment. Obviously there would be times when she just wanted to please her fella, but that was definitely not the case for most. There was one couple i used to see a lot, she was about 10 yrs older than her boyfriend. The second time I visited her she waited for her boyfriend to leave the room and whispered that she used to be a sex worker as well. I saw them lots after that.

These couple bookings are probably different to how you are picturing. Again they are heavily negotiated. I know what they want from me, what their rules are, what they don’t want. I am careful to respect both people and their relationship and nearly always focus most of my attention on the woman. Rather than being some kind of porn scenario acted out for the males pleasure, I often use these sessions to encourage the male to help me pamper the woman. It is very nice massaging a woman after massaging so many men.

I have seen some women clients by themselves as well. But in all honestly, I can count them on one hand. I know other sex workers have had more female clients than I have had, and there are even agencies and brothels that specialise in catering to female clients in the eastern states. But I have seen only a few. 3 of them were women experimenting, 1 of them was a lesbian, and one was a closeted married woman in her 50’s.

Even the male sex workers I know mainly see male clients. Although one of my friends has a number of female clients who have disabilities. They are women who have been very assertive about their sexual desires and pushed hard to get access to a sex worker. Often women’s sexuality is not considered and way too often a woman with a disability is considered asexual.

It also seems, anecdotally, that a lot of female clients are or have been sex workers themselves. I have stories from other workers about female clients who are or used to be a sex worker. They either wanted to see how it was on the other side or they just felt like laying back and being pampered. I even know a sex worker who hired another female worker when she was visiting Adelaide from interstate.  I have to admit, it does sound appealing, but I’m too cheap to hire a hooker 😉

Why so few female clients? Well, we can only speculate. Depends on what lenses you use to look at the world through I guess. Some will say, men need or want more sex and women can get it for free. Some say men are given access to women’s bodies due to patriarchy, and I say:

A little from column A) and a little from column B)

Men are often encouraged to embrace and promote their sexual urges. Men often have more access to a disposable income. Women are often discouraged from acknowledging their sexuality at all. Women often have less access to disposable income.

Combine that with an entrepreneurial instinct and a desire for independence and you have yourself supply and demand.

The sex industry is a reflection of society, warts and all (lol – see what i did there?). The sex industry is not the cause of societies problems but it is affected by them. But as society changes, so is the sex industry. There are many male sex workers catering to men who have sex with men, and the number of female clients is slowly increasing too. We know that the number of women viewing porn on the internet is huge, there are female only strip clubs and porn producers.

I look forward to a day when I can confidently tell you that 50% of my clients are women.

Dear John

Tags

brothels, clients, consent, disability, discrimination, escort, fantasy, kink, laws, money, rants, safe sex, sex industry, Sex Work, south australia, stigma

Dear John (or peter or paul or whatever name you give me today),

Thankyou for spending your money on me. My service is not cheap and in this day and age, I really appreciate that you probably worked hard for that money. For some, an hour spent with me is the equivalent of two or three full days work. For some, an hour spent with me took 6 months of budgeting, and for some,  my fee is a drop in a vast and impressive ocean, giving me hope of a nice tip or a good regular. Rich or poor, I appreciate every dollar you give me.

I’m not always sure about your expectations or motives for deciding to make a booking and hand over your hard-earned cash, and I am only one woman, there is no way I am able to be all things to all people. But I want you to leave me feeling that it was money well spent. So I write this letter affectionately and honestly to assist you in getting the most out of your  time with me. You may find that some of the suggestions I make also benefit your encounters with other sex workers.

When first making contact with me keep it professional. Only ask the questions that you need to know. Be clear if you are just making enquiries or if you are ready to make a booking. Remember that I get many enquiries and very few of them eventuate into genuine bookings so over the years I have developed a reliable bullshit detector. I learnt it from other whores I have worked and associated with. There really is a collective wisdom being passed around from brothel to the street to escort agencies, massage parlous, beats and bars, from generation to generation. We can spot a wanker (in the literal sense). If your initial enquiries include going into gory details about what you want to do to me, or asking me for more photos, or telling me how big your dick is, or worse – showing me, if you send email after email after email with more and more questions or if you try to bargain with me, I will deem you a wanker. Once deemed a wanker I will either blacklist you, ignore you, give you very limited responses and availability, double book you, or if I do decide to accept your booking, i am likely to treat you with suspicion for the first 15 mins of your time.

If you have specific desires, needs or concerns then please discuss them with me. Try to keep it simple giving only the necessary details. Telling me about your disability, or your kink, or your erectile dysfunction or your curiosities will put you at ease knowing I am then able to tailor the booking to meet your needs. Or recommend you to someone who is able to. If I cannot cater to you for whatever reason please do not take it personally, I am not judging you, I am simply acknowledging that I am not able to provide you the best service for your money.

Be aware that depending on the context I may not be able to discuss things as openly as I would like to. Sex work is illegal in South Australia . If I look anxious and am not forthcoming in answering all your questions there may be very valid reasons why. Please try to read my non verbal cues, or better yet pay me and hope for the best. This situation sucks but it is the reality of our laws here in this state and in many many many other places around the world. If you keep acting like a cop, I will ask you to leave.

Once you pay me there will be plenty of time to talk about all your dirty desires and the size of your penis. You can open up to me about your vulnerabilities in detail and you can ask about extra services available. You can even try your luck in negotiating that barter offer you have in mind. When you put your money where your mouth is, it shows me that you are genuine. It’s only then that I know you’re not a cop, a wanker, or a time waster.

When making a booking be prepared to trust me a little with your personal information. If I’m visiting you, I will obviously need your address. If you’re visiting me it is likely I will want your phone number or email or some other way to contact you in order to confirm the booking. Or to abuse you if you waste my time. If you’re in a hotel I may ask you for your real name so they let me past reception late at night. I know that you are concerned about privacy but we are both vulnerable in that regard. If you want me to trust you enough to visit your home or to give you my address, it’s only fair that you offer me the same trust. I have as much to lose as you do.

If you’re running late or need to cancel, let me know at your earliest convenience. I will appreciate it, even if its last-minute. If you do not show up to a confirmed booking and you do not cancel, I will pursue a cancellation fee. If unsuccessful I will keep your details and share them with other workers to make sure they are aware of the disrespect you showed. It’s not that I hold a grudge, but I need to protect myself. Please understand that I may have to pay rent for the room I booked for your service, or for the hotel room. I may have turned down another booking, or spent half an hour driving to the booking. I may have paid a babysitter or  bought new stockings or paid for a taxi. Preparing to see you takes my time and money, please don’t make appointments unless you are confident you can keep them.

When visiting me, make sure you get the address right and that you arrive at the agreed time.  Dont upset my neighbours by knocking on the wrong door. Dont upset me by knocking on my door at an unexpected time. I may not be there, I may be with another client or it maybe an inappropriate time. If I said we close at midnight, don’t show up 12:15 and bang loudly enough to wake the neighbours dog.

If we’re in a brothel context I do not mind you asking to meet the other workers but do not suggest that it is because I am not good enough. I don’t mind you having a preference but there is no need to be rude. Don’t look me up and down with disdain or make me jump through hoops trying to prove my worth to you. Don’t make the lame joke “you should be paying me”, I will only roll my eyes. I hear that every day from clients with something to prove. Please pay me upfront. Lets get that out of the way so that we can all relax. Please pay my quoted price without any debate.  If you spend the first 5 minutes of our time together displaying arrogant or disrespectful behaviours, I am likely to spend the next 55 minutes of our time giving you a pretty bad service (that’s if I agree to see you at all). When I feel comfortable and confident with you is when you will get value for your money.

Don’t act like you’re better than me or I will be tempted to prove you wrong.

Make sure you are washed and clean, if you need a shower, tell me and I’ll show you where the bathroom is. When washing yourself, pay special attention to your bum, your genitals, your hands and nails. Make sure your dental hygiene is at its best. If you smell bad or have bits of toilet paper hanging from your bum-crack (and a huge percentage of you do) I will ask you to take a shower mid booking. If you have bad breath I will avoid being too close or intimate with you. I will not let you kiss me, and infact i will encourage doggy position only to avoid having you on top of me. If your hands or nails are filthy I may ask you to wear gloves or limit the ways and places that you touch me.

Let me know if you’re enjoying it. You can use your words, your actions or your facial expressions. Telling me it feels nice, responding to me physically, smiling or even a satisfied sigh will make it easier for me to read you making me relax and enjoy the booking a little more. Tell me what you want, nothing shocks me, nothing offends me (at least nothing that involves only consenting adults ). I wont always say yes, but I often will. I am happy to explore your fantasies with you, but if you tell me what they are it will take away the guess-work. You’re paying me by the hour, it’s up to you how long it takes for me to find your secret spots.

I know you might be nervous and that’s ok, sometimes I still get nervous too. But I am a professional, I have done this plenty of times. Try and relax with me and let me take the lead.

Don’t ask me if I’m ‘faking it’ or make comments alluding to your suspicion that it’s all an act on my part. If I am faking it, I am faking it, do you really want me to tell you the truth? Even if I am faking it, I may still be enjoying myself. Asking me to constantly reassure you will only make me feel self conscious and will limit my ability to connect with you.

Dont expect me to bend my rules for you. Not even if you’re my regular. Even if you have reason to believe that I may negotiate, always ask, never presume. If you do something I do not like I will let you know. If you do it again I may decide to end your booking immediately. If I decide to give you a second chance I will finish the service in a very clinical and controlled way focussing on controlling your behaviour rather than providing pleasure. Conversely if you show respect for my boundaries, listen to my verbal and non verbal cues and ask if you are unsure, you will find that I am very open minded.

Respect the need for latex. I know condoms are not always ideal for a whole range of possible excuses you could offer me, but they are all I have. I work hard to make safe sex sexy and if you pay attention you might learn some things. Trust me when I say no to your request for “natural services”. If you persist I will be forced to graphically explain the worst possible unsafe sex scenarios. And that is a bit of a mood killer. Don’t ask me if I’m clean or tell me that you are, just use a condom. And while on the subject, if during the service i notice something that could be a symptom of a sexually transmitted infection, don’t get upset when I point it out. Most STI’s are fixed with a trip to the doctor, and others can be managed. You might be right when you try and explain it away, it might just be skin tags and not warts but I might not be in a position to take the risk. I will not kick you out, but I will have to provide a different safer service. Please know that my level of care to ensure our sex is safe will mean that you can have a guilt free hour with me.

If you’re going to drink, take drugs or masturbate before our booking, do not blame me if you can’t get an erection or achieve an orgasm. In fact, don’t blame me for that no matter what the reasons are. Same goes if you cum to quickly. I do my best to time our sessions perfectly, but you well know that there are things beyond my control that affect your sexual function. Dont be embarrassed by it, you’re certainly not alone. When you’re with me there is no pressure or expectation, your sexual performance is only of concern to you. You payed me and I want to make sure you don’t regret it, so if you experience problems in any of these areas due to drugs or alcohol, prescription medication, physical reasons, emotional reasons or anything else, I will be happy to spend the session trying, playing, pampering, massaging, or whatever we negotiate. But please don’t expect me to perform miracles or give refunds

Be respectful of my time and the time you payed for. Remember you payed for a service, not just the sex. If you need a shower at the end or take a long time to dress or you want to sit and have a chat, make sure you allow for that in your booking time. Dont try to delay having an orgasm until the last 5 mins and then expect me to go overtime when it doesn’t happen straight away. Understand that i may have other appointments, i may be paying for the room by the hour, I might have to answer to a boss, I might have kids to pick up from school or I might have to get to the bank before it closes. As intense as the session may have felt, if the time is up, the time is up. It’s not personal, but I am a busy woman. If you need longer we may be able to negotiate extending the booking, feel free to make me an offer.

If I gave you a good service, tip me. Or at the very least – tell me.

Be discreet, if you see me on the street, don’t approach me, understand that just as you may have reasons why you don’t tell everyone that you book sex workers, I have reasons for not telling everyone about my work. If you attempt to approach me in any way outside of the sex industry you will not be happy with the response you get from me. On the other hand, please keep looking for my adds and follow me from business to business as I try out different workplaces over the years, we can grow old together.

I look forward to your next booking

Lots of love, respect and gratitude,

Jane (or whatever name I have given you today)

Balloon Guy

Tags

balloon fetish, balloons, brothels, clients, fantasy, fetish, kink, money, personal stories, sex industry, Sex Work, sexuality, south australia

Most of the people in my life do not know what I do for job. But every now and then I will feel the need to tell someone close to me for whatever reason, or if I’m in a cheeky mood at a party I might to decide to tell the unsuspecting stranger when they innocently enquire ” what do you do?”. Sometimes I’ll smile sweetly and respond “I’m a hooker”, and watch their face register shock/interest/disbelief/disdain sometimes all four at once. No matter why or where  I choose to disclose I have to be prepared to do a “sex work 101” education session with who ever I tell and as part of that session there are certain questions that I’ll get asked. One of the questions that invariably comes up is “what’s the weirdest thing you have ever done/ who was your strangest client?” or variations to that effect.

So I tell the story of the Balloon Guy. I have since found out that this guy is fairly well-known around the traps, and is happy to share his story. As it turns out there is quite a community of balloon fetishists. I have mentioned before that my service has always been a fairly vanilla service and so I havent had a lot of experience with different or extreme fetishes and there are many sex workers and others who are experienced and provide more specialised services catering to people with alternative fantasies. But I still get lots of opportunities to learn about the wide and wonderful world of human sexuality.

This story is set in yet another brothel on a very quiet day. There was only the receptionist and me on shift. Every now and then the door bell or phone would interrupt our gossiping and chatting. Dull and boring with not much money to be made. And then Balloon Guy phoned. He was calling to check if there was anyone on shift who would be willing to cater to his particular interest. The receptionist put his call on hold and asked me if I would be willing to blow up balloons untill they popped, I laughed and said “sure – why not”. I didn’t for a second think this guy was serious, or that he would even show up. We get lots of strange calls, not many of them eventuate into an actual booking.

But, within the hour  the doorbell rang. The receptionist answered the door and showed the client to the waiting room. She came back laughing and saying “it’s that balloon guy who rang up!”. I wasn’t sure if I even believed her so I laughed too and went to meet my client. Sure enough before he paid the client produced a bag of balloons.

“I’m the guy that rang up. Did the receptionist tell you about me? I have a balloon fetish, I really want you to blow up some of these  balloons, maybe even enough to pop one.”

I probably laughed again. But I quickly agreed and took the money for an hour booking plus $100 extra for a ‘fantasy fee’. I took him and his balloons to my workroom and left him alone for a moment to “make himself comfortable” while I put the money away.

On a quiet day, I was thrilled for the money, but as soon as I left the room I started freaking out. I mean, it all sounds easy enough, but blowing up a balloon until it pops? Could I actually do that? Oh well, I had his money now, so I may as well give it a go. Fake it till you make it. Another funny story for the future book.

When I went back in, he had the balloons spread all over the bed. He had collected them from all over the world and he lovingly showed them to me while he told me their stories. All I could think of was “oh my god, they’re specialty balloons, they’re huge, I have to blow up these over sized, good quality balloons until they pop. What have I agreed to!!”

And eventually it came time for me fulfill my part of the agreement. By this time I was in my underwear and he was naked. I began blowing up the balloons. He watched me, smiling. I would stop to answer his questions: he asked how it felt, if I was scared, if I liked the smell of the rubber. He wanted me to tell him what I was doing.

“I’m going to blow up this big balloon until its huge, and if I keep on blowing it, it might pop!”

“Yes I am scared, because if it pops, it will make a big noise, and will bang in my face, and I’ll probably scream and jump”

“It smells and taste like rubber, the smell is all on my hands and in my mouth”

I kept blowing the balloon. It was pretty scary blowing up a huge balloon  stretching it beyond its limit. Every breath could burst it. The anticipation was killing me and I played it up for him which only made it worse.

He got me to swap balloons occasionally, blowing up many different balloons and then letting them down. None of hem had popped yet. He told me stories about balloons from his childhood. About the girls at the fair who would blow up the balloons for the kids. He would hang around watching them all day, he loved it when one would accidently pop a balloon, it would make them jump and giggle. He told me about how he would beg his mum to blow up balloons for him and then he would rub it on his skin until it made that awful squealing noise which made his mother tell him off, and he loved it.

Each time the balloon got really big, I’d slow my breathing down. I wasn’t sure if he wanted anything sexual from me as well, so I was trying to read his non verbal cues, as well as psyching myself up for the big bang. He touched me a little, and he touched the big balloon I was blowing up, a lot.

I kept talking balloon dirty to him, and he began to touch himself.

“It’s so big, it’s scary” *giggle*

I blew and blew and blew and blew. His sexual interest in the balloon and himself intensified. It was while he was rubbing it (the balloon I mean) that it popped. It actually wasnt as scary as I had anticipated, having his hand on it sort of took the impact out of it. He didn’t orgasm, but his sexual intensity had peaked.

As per usual, my timing was impeccable and the hour was nearly up by the time balloon had popped. The Balloon Guy dressed and packed up his precious rubbers. I asked him if he was satisfied with his booking, seeing as he hadn’t orgasmed. He told me he rarely orgasms with strangers, but that the memory of our session would give him lots of inspiration for future orgasms.

Once I showered and dressed I showed him out the front door and hurried back inside ready to tell the whole story to the extremely amused receptionist who had been patiently waiting to hear all about it.