While it’s entirely possible that several clients have died I only know of two. Last month I wrote about CT which can be read here. Today I’m going to write about Latex Geezer.

LG expressed his desire to meet in person during our very first call. I didn’t take him seriously-lots of guys tell me this. After we had talked for awhile I felt comfortable enough to do an in person with him. He was a state away and drove down to see me.

We met at a restaurant for lunch. He was old; I knew this already. I didn’t expect the skin to be sagging so much and for him to look so frail. And he wants me to spank him I thought as I looked at him across the table.

Back in his hotel room I focused instead on his crossdressing. I’ll be honest-he wasn’t a pretty site dressed up in a corset, panties, stockings, and heels. I put on my sex worker smile and worked on his make up and jewelry. He had a fetish for latex, thus his nickname, and we incorporated it in almost every scene.

We did several professional sessions together. I did spank him in time but it was more lightly smacking instead of spanking. I made sure to use noisy toys to give the illusion that I was spanking hard.

Then after a session he asked me to marry him. I was taken aback. Was he serious? I was young enough to be his daugher and barely young enough to be his granddaughter. He wanted to move past the pro sessions and become my personal slave/husband. I said no. Actually I said no many times because he asked me repeatedly. Though I told him I had a husband he conveniently forgot this and chose to believe I had a boyfriend instead.

LG had money to throw around and offered to buy a home in my area if he could be my personal slave. He implied that he would eventually put the house into my name. On a visit we went to a real estate agent where I pretended to be his niece. We looked at several houses together. He didn’t like my choices, nor I his. Ignoring my advice he chose a big house that was overpriced. He would split his time in his home state to be with his grown children and in his new home to spend time with me.

As for being my slave, I told LG I already had a partner that met my sexual and kinky needs. I made it very clear I did not want a live in slave. Since he was no spring chicken he couldn’t do hard labor for me. That left him with the option of personal assistant slave. We worked out an agreement. He would run errands for me and I would occasionally play with him. The scenes we’d do would be crossdressing, feminization, maid training and light spanking. He agreed and seemed happy with the situation.

Around this time readers I made a bad mistake as a sex worker. I believed a client who was used to getting his fantasies fulfilled in a pro session would be content to fulfill the duties I wanted fulfilled as a personal slave. In short, I believed something that was too good to be true.

At first it was great. I sent him to pick up groceries, look up info, run all over town to locate a hard to find item. I’d stop by his house and dress him up as a maid. He’d serve me my favorite foods. Afterwards I’d put clothespins on his nipples, spank him or tie him up and make him watch a bdsm video to tease him.

Things quickly went downhill. We began to bicker almost every time we got together. He started making excuses instead of fulfilling orders. He’d question why he even had to do tasks. This made me stop doing scenes with him. If I wasn’t getting my end of the bargain then why should he? He did continue to take me out to dinner. I’ve eaten at some of the best restaurants where I live because of him. Our politics were diametrically opposed, he didn’t understand many of my interests and I couldn’t talk about my personal life so conversation was always lackluster. After a spanking or crossdressing scene he would complain that we didn’t go further. He kept dropping hints that he wanted to please me in every way since I was such a sensual Goddess. I knew what he meant and ignored him.

It was in LA where things finally fell apart. Mr. Radical, Sera and I had gone out to LA on a roadtrip. I agreed to go to the hormone doctor with LG. In my mind this was another trade. I fulfilled his fantasy of going to the boobie doctor, he paid for part of my vacation. LG took Sera and I out to dinner and our Mismatched Whores joke was born. That can be read about here and here.

He demanded to lick my pussy. He had given me money for LA so he wanted something in return. I was pissed. How dare he say such a thing! I reminded him that sexual service was never part of our agreement. LG sneered that if he couldn’t be my sexual slave then he was giving the house to his children. I had always suspected he might do this so it didn’t come as a shock. We fought and yelled as we drove through LA rush hour traffic. I will give him credit though. I ordered him to drop me off at my hotel room and he did. That was the last time I saw him in person.

We kept in contact over the phone. He started having health issues though he downplayed the severity. December was busy for him. He had several grandchildren and didn’t have time to check in with me. I was glad for the break. The trade we had agreed to had completely fallen apart. It felt like constant work to deal with him and I was no longer getting paid.

The last I heard from him was in January. He said the time apart had helped him and now he was committed to being my slave. I didn’t believe it. After many refusals to do what I told him he’d come back pleading with just this line. He promised to return in the spring. But then he vanished. I didn’t realize right away. Mr. Radical and I were moving across town and I got wrapped up in my own life. My last conversation with LG was a typical argument so I was glad to have some time apart.

A few months later I dreamed of LG. He was in a hospital bed with a gown on and tubes in his arms and nose. His children surrounded him. He sat upright and reached out his arms. “Mistress, Mistress, Mistress” he called over and over. He family was shocked but he kept calling out to me. I woke up with his voice in my head.

As I drank my morning coffee I googled his name and “obit”. Up popped his obituary. It was April 6th but he died at the beginning of March. Did he really call out to me on his deathbed? I have no way of knowing. But the dream felt real. Even typing it out gives me a little chill.

No matter what we called it I considered LG to be a client. He liked to call himself my slave. But he never really was. With hindsight I realize LG wanted to be an Erectionland slave. I would play with him in the dungeon, fulfilling all his fantasies because they were my fantasies too. The only work I would make him do would be frivolous if it did not somehow fulfill his desires. Today I realize LG wanted a girlfriend who would fulfill his every fantasy. What he didn’t realize was that because of his age and his health he needed to pay to get all his desires met. In hindsight I realize I never should have agreed to a trade. I should have kept our relationship a professional one. I have more thoughts on this but this post is getting long. I’ll write up a Part 3 to this series.

When A Client Dies Series
When A Client Dies-Part 1

Posted by Vixen in PSO Confessions