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May 13th, 2012

Not A Mother

Longtime readers know I’m childfree. Most of my clients do as well. Despite this I had three clients call to wish me a Happy Mother’s Day today. Sigh. None of them wanted to book a call; they just wanted a few free minutes.

The correct PSO response is to smile and say thank you which I did. But inwardly I was groaning. One client and I have talked for years. He said I was “kind of like his mother” even though we’ve never done that type of fantasy. Try as I may to focus on the positive “they’re just being nice” angle I still am annoyed.

One client told me that “you’ll be a mother someday” when finding out that I was childfree. Isn’t assuming all women are mothers or want to be mothers part of the problem with the current war on women? Men knowing what’s best for our wombs and all that? Men don’t randomly get wished Happy Father’s Day do they? Mr. Radical never has. Or maybe I’m just reading too much into it and they just wanted an easy excuse to get a few free minutes.

Posted by Vixen as PSO Confessions at 10:22 PM CDT

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April 29th, 2012

Bombing A Call

Frog with Water Bottle on Head and Thermometer in Mouth

I bombed a call the other night. It’s been awhile since I did one this bad. I’ll call the guy BC for bad call. Here’s what happened.

BC is a relatively new client. We’ve done a few calls and I usually hear from him every other month. His fantasy is pretty easy-spanking, crossdressing and forced bi. BC likes a constant stream of talk. Normally this isn’t a problem. I prattle on about how I’m going to spank him and when he’s ready to switch gears he’ll bring up panties or his sluttiness. When I pause to take a sip of water or form the next thought he’ll complain that I’m not talking enough. I find this annoying but manageable.

When he called this last time it started off well. A few minutes into the call however I started to feel sick. Earlier in the day I had eaten something my body was now disagreeing with strongly. I started to sweat and my stomach began to churn. In hindsight I should have ended the call right then. But I told myself I’d be fine and that BC didn’t talk long anyway.

But oh how minutes drag on when you’re feeling sick. The nausea got worse and I started to feel “out of it”. My eyes kept closing and my head was swirling. What was I talking about? Who was I even talking to?

I tried to uh huh and mmm my way through the call. If I had been talking to another client this may have worked. However, BC picked up on my different behavior. “Am I boring you?” he asked in an annoyed voice.

Uh oh. That’s never a good sign. I said no and tried to convince him I was oh so turned on. Meanwhile I stared at the clock-why was it moving in slow motion? We continued with the call. My voice was starting to sound weak. If I was noticing then surely BC noticed. He asked me again if he was boring me. Again I assured him that he wasn’t. I was feeling so shitty but tried to keep going. Surely it would be done soon?

BC was sounding more and more annoyed. Finally he sighed heavily and said, “ok I’ll just talk to you later” and hung up. At the time I felt relieved the call was over. I took off my headset, turned off my phone and tucked myself into bed.

When I eat something I shouldn’t I’m usually sick for several hours and then I sleep it off. The next morning I felt better. As I turned on my computer to do work notes I remembered the call with BC. Ugh, how horrible. Why didn’t I just end the call? He was so disappointed. Will he call me again? I have no idea. I hope so. He’s not the kind of caller I can call and he doesn’t do email. The only thing I can do is give him a kick ass fantasy if he calls again.

I’ve certainly learned my lesson. If I’m sick I have to turn off my phone even if that means ending a call early.

Posted by Vixen as PSO Confessions at 8:08 PM CDT

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February 21st, 2012

Fake Sincerity

Abstract Embrace in Red

There’s a type of client I get that likes fake sincerity (Fake Sincerity Guy). FSG likes to pretend we’re in a relationship. He gushes about how we have so much in common and how we’re meant to be together. Most of the call is talking about how perfect our lives will be when we get together. FSG likes to insist that he loves me and he’s never loved anyone else as much as he loves me.

Writing this I realize this sounds like stalker behavior. It’s not like that. I’ve had a couple of stalker types and a mention of my husband and/or my gun ownership scares that type off. Fake sincerity is different. Fake Sincerity Guy likes to pretend we’re in a sort of long distance relationship.

These calls play out in one of two ways. The first is the quick burn out. FSG will go on and on about how he loves me and how we’re perfect for one another. After a few calls he realizes we’re not really dating. This usually happens when he starts asking for freebies. Why should he have to pay when we both enjoy the calls so much? Once I’ve made it clear he has to pay to talk to me he’ll get angry, pouty or whiny. This type of FSG will act upset and accuse me of betraying him. I don’t get it. He was paying from the beginning and just realized it? More likely he hoped I would fall for him and give him free calls. These guys call a lot in a short amount of time. Once they feel “betrayed” they’ll typically end the call in a huff and never call again.

This first FSG version is a great temporary client. Sure he’s a quick burn out but for the weeks he calls it’s great. I’m pretty good at predicting this type of FSG and am prepared for the inevitable break up call. Last year I had one of these FSGs. He called for several weeks. Each call he insisted we were perfect for each other. He would tell me over and over again that he loved me and asked when I would come see him. I was honest; I told him he would have to pay my travel expenses for me to travel across the country. This obsessed FSG-if we were meant to be together why couldn’t I pay to fly out there? Eventually, he decided I had deceived him and our last call was his “break up” with me.

The second version is much better. This type of FSG plays the same game-we’re in love and are perfect for each other because we like the same kinks. During the call we plan our first meeting which will be the start of our relationship. The difference with this version is FSG gets that it’s a game. Each time he calls the scenario starts over. We never get to the setting an official date for our meeting or he’ll have an excuse on why he can’t come out to see me yet.

I have a few FSG clients that have played this game for years. They’re easy enough though it always weirds me out to tell someone I love them when I actually don’t. It’s part of the game though so I act my part. One regular FSG promises me every call that he is going to divorce his wife. Once the divorce is finalized he promises he’ll hop on a plan to come see me. He’ll quit his job, sell all his belongings and move in with me. Yup, he’s still married and still has the same fantasy of leaving his family and career. He’s been calling for years.

Posted by Vixen as PSO Confessions at 11:30 PM CST

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December 2nd, 2011

Fetish Fridays: Screaming

A Woman Screams at the Sight of a Tiny Mouse. Her Dog Doesn't Look Too Happy Either

For Fetish Fridays I usually search online for a good fetish link for my post. This time I didn’t find anything with substance. But from a sex worker perspective I see screaming (or yelling) as a fetish. It’s one of my least favorite to do. Screaming calls are the hardest calls for me both giving and receiving. Scream Callers (SC) either like you to scream at them throughout the call or they like to yell at you.

A scream call can take many forms-sometimes I’m the angry Mistress verbally humiliating a slave. Other times I’m the mad Mommy chastising her naughty boy. I’ve been an upset principal and angry teacher yelling at my naughty student. The common thread here is volume. They really want me to yell. It’s as if the volume of my yells directly affects the level of their excitement.

This type of call is hard on my throat so I rarely do them. PSOs rely on their voice to do the work-why would we wreck it by screaming regularly? My throat feels raw by the end of the call and in need of a rest. After a scream fetish call I’ll turn off my phone for the night. A hot cup of tea with honey has soothed my throat afterward many a time.

Of my current clients I can only thing of one regular that has a scream fetish. Even with him I don’t scream as loud as he’d like. And I don’t do it every call. With him Mommy will raise her voice to chastise his naughty ways. Near the end of the call I’ll yell out some insults to make him cum.

Being on the receiving end of a screaming fetish call is easier but still a pain. The caller likes to yell at me for various reasons. I don’t typically do submissive calls but I do with a few regulars. I’m yelled at for being a naughty girl. Or they’ll yell at me to tell me to have an orgasm. “Louder! Play with that pussy more!” they’ll scream while I work on a knitting project and moan.

The trouble with this type of call is they tend to give me a headache. The caller doesn’t yell constantly. There will be moments of normal volume and then BAM! he’ll start to yell. I’ve tried having an itchy trigger finger on the mute button but it’s hard to catch every one. Eventually all that yelling makes my head pound. As soon as the call is over I’m heading to the bathroom for some Advil. I don’t do many of these calls either.

A slight variant to the fetish is orgasm sounds. Many callers like me to have what I call “a going for the Grammy” orgasm. This entails lots of OH GOD OH GOD YES YES YES. They like me to moan at a loud volume. One of my callers likes to have me do loud orgasm after loud orgasm during our calls. While it’s easy to moan and shout words of pleasure I find doing this too much will wreck my throat for the night. I like to start off quiet and work up to the big porno like orgasm for the end.

What causes a scream fetish? Several of my clients were caught masturbating and yelled at by their mothers as children. I also think the over the top yelling in porn causes some clients to want similar noises during a phone fantasy.

Bottom line for PSOs-preserve your voice and only do scream fetishes rarely.

Fetish Fridays
Fetish Fridays: Sploshing
Fetish Fridays: Robot Sex
Fetish Fridays: Humiliation
Fetish Fridays: Glory Holes
Fetish Fridays: Shoe Fetish
Fetish Fridays: Achoo!
Fetish Fridays: Tickle Fetish
Fetish Fridays: Doggy Boy
Fetish Fridays: Smoking Fetish
Fetish Fridays: Latex Love
Fetish Fridays: Furries
Fetish Fridays: Exhibitionism
Fetish Fridays: Chastity
Fetish Fridays: Pony Play
Fetish Fridays: Hirsutism
Fetish Fridays: Sploshing Revisited
Fetish Fridays: Interview With A Sissy
Fetish Fridays: Teabagging
Fetish Fridays: Financial Submission
Fetish Fridays: Kidnapping
Fetish Fridays: Blackmail
Fetish Fridays: Golden Showers

Posted by Administrator as PSO Confessions, Fetish Fridays at 11:58 PM CST

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August 31st, 2011

Nap Time

Napping Under Marshmallow Tree

One of my in person clients is an older gentleman. (I’ll call him OG for this post.) I’ve been seeing him for about a year. He’s still active but he’s definitely feeling his age. Sometimes he has big bruises on his legs or hips from what I judge to be a fall though he never says.

We stick to strap on play for the most part. He sometimes asks for a spanking but even my lightest paddle is too hard. I use my hand and pretend I’m smacking hard. One time he stumbled, fell over and rolled into the hotel table hard. I had a sudden panic-what if he really hurts himself?! Thankfully he was fine.

During our last session he asked for something new. He wanted to sleep with me-not fucking but actual sleep. He was feeling winded and suggested we both lie down. As I stretched out on the bed he started turning off the hotel room lights, leaving only the bathroom light on.

He said I must be feeling tired to so we should both take a nap. I wasn’t feeling tired but followed his lead. When he laid down I started to wonder if he wanted to cuddle. That’s so intimate-was I on board for that? I didn’t think I was. My body must have been tense because OG said “Don’t worry, I’m not going to try anything.”

Then he stretched out on the bed himself. He laid on his back, keeping completely still. I did the same. Soon enough his breathing became slow and rhythmic.

This is the first time I’ve napped with a client. I found it uncomfortable. Obviously I wasn’t going to go to sleep. Sure I could take OG in a fight but sleeping would mean letting my guard down. But laying down on a soft bed, in a mostly dark room while hearing someone sleep next to you certainly sets a sleep vibe.

To stay awake I decided to count. Letting my mind wander was a bad idea-I could see myself falling asleep that way. I counted to 30 then would open my eyes. After it felt like ten or so minutes had gone by I’d look at the clock.

Time went by. OG napped while I counted. I didn’t know how long to let him nap for. I’d shift position but his breath would stay regular. Apparently he was more tired than I realized. We laid on the bed for the last 45 minutes of the session.

It was time for me to go so I got up and started packing. OG heard me moving around and slowly sat up. He asked if I felt refreshed and I cheerfully lied and told him yes. He pulled back the covers and laid back down. He tucked himself in and I was preparing to leave. “I’m just going to nap a bit more,” he said.

I told him to rest up and left. I wonder if nap time will happen again during our session. After I got over my fear of falling asleep fake napping was pretty easy.

Posted by Vixen as PSO Confessions at 10:54 PM CDT

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April 30th, 2011

A Wretched Mess

Someone recently asked me what was my worst session like. I wrote about my worst call here. But I did a gross in person session that could be in the running for my worst session. Yup, this means no eating while reading during this post. Still with me? Good, let’s jump right in.

The client wanted me to buy the “biggest dildo” I could find. Let’s call him Dildo Guy. Now I’ve been to the Mr. S store in San Francisco and they had one of the biggest dildo I ever saw. I remember wondering how something that large could fit into any human orifice. DG didn’t have much dildo experience so I knew he would balk at something truly gigantic.

Instead I went with an 8″ dildo that had a good width. The width gave the misleading appearance of being longer than it actually was. When I pulled it out during our session DG guessed it to be 11″; I played along.

He had told me that he’d cleaned himself with a Fleet enema before I showed up at the hotel room. This was good news-the last time I used a dildo with him it came out dirty. I always use condoms with my strap on which helps immensely with clean up.

I started off with the smaller dildo but DG was so anxious. He begged for the bigger dildo and since he seemed ready I got it ready. Things seemed to be going fine. But when the dildo was pulled out a stream of liquid shit poured out of his ass onto the hotel bed. The flow was heavy and poured out of him making a pool of shit on the bed. DG had propped himself up on a pillow which also got shat upon.

My gag reflex kicked in and I hurried off to the bathroom to compose myself. When I came out into the main room DG asked me to clean him up. What?! I was there to play Mistress not nurse so I just grabbed him a towel, threw it over the shit puddle and walked away again.

Why did this happen? I presume he didn’t fully expel the enema. Normally I encourage clients to clean themselves before seeing a Mistress for a strap on session. With DG I suggested he skip the enema next time.

DG mopped up the bed with a towel and then made his way to the bathroom to clean himself up. The hotel room stank horribly. Several towels were stained as was the pillow and bed comforter. I cranked the fan and cracked a window although it didn’t help much. Gods did that room stink.

Thankfully the hotel was in his name. At the end of the session DG asked if housekeeping would notice the stain on the bed and towels. I encouraged him to tip them on the nightstand. I hope he did.

Posted by Vixen as PSO Confessions at 11:52 PM CDT

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March 12th, 2011

Fake Drinking

Bottoms Up

In the last couple months I’ve done two more sessions with SC ie Shitty Client. I blogged about him here and here.

For the first session I met SC at his hotel. After I walked in and started unpacking my bag he told me that he brought me something to drink. I look on the table and there is an open bottle of vodka and a glass of it was already poured.

That was a huge red flag. A sex worker should never take a drink from a client unless she 100% trusts him. I’ve only accepted a drink from one client in my nine years as a sex worker. (He’s a client of sex worker friend and he likes to have glasses of wine and a snack tray waiting for us when we show up. She’s been seeing him for over a decade so I consider him very trustworthy.)

But a client like SC? No way would I accept an open container of alcohol from him. Clients could easily slip something into a drink that could fuck a sex worker up. I told him flat out I wouldn’t drink it. Now SC is rude and demanding and there’s no use trying to be subtle with the man. When he asked why I told him it wasn’t safe.

The session went ok for a SC session. He still smoked like a chimney, made demands even though he’s “submissive” and grumbled about everything. He ended up drinking the vodka he brought me.

The second session occurred a few weeks later. On the phone he told me to bring some alcohol for myself. “You’re more fun when you’re drunk,” he told me. Now SC has never seen me drunk. I fake drank during the first session with my friend J.

So I decided to fake drink again. The day before the session I bought a half pint of tequila. SC drinks gin and vodka and just didn’t seem like the type to drink tequila. I poured half the pint out and filled it with water.

When I arrived at SC’s hotel and pulled out the bottle he was elated. I noticed as he made himself a glass of gin that he put lots of ice into the glass. I did the same with my drink. I even added some water from the hotel sink into the glass so it was way diluted. SC didn’t complain or even seem to notice.

During the session I just sipped from my glass or wet my lips with the liquid. I didn’t want to spill it down my neck since I still had to drive home. Instead I strutted around the room and poured out the glass whenever I could. When SC would go to the bathroom I’d pour some of it out in a corner or behind the couch. Whenever I’d go check the hotel fan I’d pour some out on the floor. I know that’s wrecking the carpet but the hotel he stays out is not that great to begin with-the room already stinks and the carpet was stained way before I poured out a drop. Still a little crazy on my part.

But I never got drunk nor did I get even a little tipsy. I also had a glass of water nearby that I was really drinking to ensure I could give several golden showers. At the end of the session SC said it was a lot more fun than the last time we got together. “You’re more fun when you’re drunk,” he told me again. I just smiled and agreed.

Posted by Vixen as PSO Confessions at 12:30 PM CST

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January 20th, 2011

Praying To St. Anna

Saint Anna Nicole Smith

Earlier this month I had an in-person session with a regular client. (His kink isn’t important for this post so I’ll call him RC.) He vacillates between a short session and a long one. Now, I never rely on session money. Anything could go wrong and the whole thing could be canceled on a moment’s notice.

But I still think about the money and make mental plans on how to spend it. At first RC wanted five hours. That morning he had called and said he had changed his mind yet again-he only wanted to do two. Going from five to two-ouch!

As I was driving to the hotel I thought about Anna Nicole Smith. I really do think of her as the Matron Saint of Gold Diggers. Though I’m not a gold digger at that moment I felt like one. I wanted my five hour fee! So I prayed to Saint Anna (as a Discordian Pagan this fits my eclectic beliefs). I asked that RC would change his mind and want to do the full session.

Silly? Perhaps. But when I got to RC’s hotel room he told me he wanted to do the five hours. I went into the bathroom to put on my mistress garb and gave a prayer of thanks.

Posted by Vixen as PSO Confessions, Sex Workers at 9:15 PM CST

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January 5th, 2011

A Long Plane Ride

Nose Art, Glamour Puss, Pin-up
For my NYC trip last fall I had packed a new book and was looking forward to reading it on my plane rides there and back. Most of the time I was able to but on one flight I was only able to read a couple of pages before I was interrupted by the person sitting next to me.

He was an older man in late 60s. He was talkative-very talkative. I tried going back to reading several times but his small talk kept being intrusive. It soon became apparent that I’d have to be rude to get him to stop talking.

It was too early in the morning to get that bitchy. Instead I decided to pretend he was a new phone client. During my trip I do any PSO calls, which was fabulous. But I had to get back to it once home. Why not warm up on this guy I thought?

So I became the pleasant listener. During the whole flight we talked about his life-his work, his ex-wife, the divorce, their kids, his travels post-divorce. The plane ride was a couple of hours but it felt much longer. He just went on and on and on. When the flight attendants came by with their beverages he remarked to them that we were having a great time.

He was having a great time but actually I was quite bored. I didn’t have anything in common with the man and his stories soon became repetitive. Still though I played nice. It felt like a game. I was giving the appearance of being completely interested and entertained by this man and he believed me.

None of the conversation was sex related but it still felt like a PSO call. He was a lonely man in search of company. That describes many of my clients. After the plane landed and we were allowed to stand up (I’ll save my airplane gripes for another post) the man turned to me and said, “Wow you’re a great listener”. He was in a great mood.

I smiled and said thank you. Though it wasn’t an entertaining conversation it was a good experience for me. I still had the magic touch baby!

Posted by Vixen as PSO Confessions at 9:13 PM CST

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November 25th, 2010


Showgirls Knitting Garments During Drive to Provide Goods to Servicemen During the War

I was on a call with a regular client. He’s an easy one that likes to do most of the talking. I’ll call him Easy Guy because his calls are pleasant and relaxed. While on the call I was working on a knitting project. The knitting part was done and I was weaving in the ends.

For non-knitters this means I had a darning sewing needle and was sewing in the yarn ends into the knit fabric. Some knitting projects only have a few ends but this one had a ton. In my mind this was a perfect project for a phone call.

The call was going along fine when EG paused and asked me “are you eating something?” This surprised me because I wasn’t. If I were I would have taken steps to hide it-see my post about eating food on calls here.

I told EG that I wasn’t. He said that he was hearing a weird noise. I had no clue what he was talking about so we started up the fantasy again. Then he stopped and said- “There! Did you hear that?”

Uh oh, is he hearing me lick my finger, I wondered. EG asked me if I was eating hard candy. My finger was on my tongue when he asked. To weave in my ends I would lick a finger, rub the yarn end between the wet finger and another to make it pointy enough to go through the needle. I was doing that with each yarn end. In my mind my licking noises were quiet but he picked up on them.

I told him no and went back to the fantasy. But I did stop weaving in my yarn ends. Oops on my part.

Posted by Vixen as PSO Confessions at 9:39 PM CST

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August 17th, 2010

Sex Work And Honesty: Attractiveness

Mouth of Truth

Often clients ask what type of man turns me on. After one call where I gave my honest answer I’ve learned it’s best to tailor my response.

I was still a newbie PSO when a guy asked what kind of man attracted me. (short answer-see Eddie Vedder post) Without thinking I told him-broad shoulders, deep voice, long hair, facial hair, in shape but not overly muscular, the type of man that can split wood and fix a car, kinky, intelligent, well read, politically active and independent, the type of person who purposely lives outside of mainstream culture, funny, tattoo’d, eccentric, artistic.

After I was finished my client said “oh” and then was silent for a few minutes. I knew I had said something wrong. Then he said, “that doesn’t describe me at all”. I tried to backpedal and assure him that I’d be attracted to him. But the damage was done-the rest of the call was tepid. Still, I learned a valuable lesson from it.

Now I’m purposely vague about what I find attractive. My new answer-I like a man who’s submissive, kinky and loves to worship a woman. If I know what the client is into I’ll throw his kinks into my answer. It’s like the question is a request for reassurance. They want to know that I’m attracted to them and that if we met in person they’d have a chance with me.

Occasionally clients send me their pictures. I always find this interesting. Can I see the kink hidden in their face? Sometimes I can. Sissies and crossdressers lips have something about them that set off my kinkdar. Maybe it’s because they wear lipstick? I don’t know. It’s especially interesting if the picture is taken in their house. It’s like I get a mini peek into their lives. I had a crossdresser sent me a picture of himself in his bedroom and I saw a picture of myself on his nightstand. That was neat.

A regular once sent me a picture of himself and wanted to talk about it the whole call. Normally, my clients are all ok looking. They may not be attractive to me but they aren’t ugly. Just not my type. This regular was pretty much the opposite of what I like-short crew cut hair, clean shaven, but most importantly he was a preppie. He looked to be at a political gathering so I asked him about it. Sure enough, he was at some young Republicans fundraiser. He wasn’t attractive to me at all.

I knew that telling him I thought he was cute would sound fake as hell so I took another tactic. “I bet a ton of women think you’re attractive. I bet you get hit on all the time,” I told him. He took the bait and ran with it. He told me of the throngs of women that threw themselves at him. But ultimately they didn’t know of his kinky side so he was still a submissive waiting for a mistress. The call went smoothly after that.

I think of it as stroking their ego. I don’t mean that to sound demeaning. We all like our egos stroked. I appreciate it when guys tell me how attractive I am in my photos and when people tell me how pretty my handknit sweaters are. Compliments feel good.

Some of my clients need reassurance that they’re still attractive to women. Part of my job is to tell them they are. If I gave my real answer to what kind of man I’m attracted to it might alienate them and that’s the last thing either of us want.

Sex Work And Honesty Series
Sex Work And Honesty: Being Childfree
Sex Work And Honesty: Being Too Honest
Sex Work And Honesty: When The Truth Hurts
Sex Work And Honesty: Political Opinions
Sex Work And Honesty: Not Owning A TV
Sex Work And Honesty: The Correct Answer
Sex Work And Honesty: Relationship Status
Sex Work And Honesty: Religion

Posted by Vixen as PSO Confessions at 11:51 PM CDT


July 24th, 2010

Shitty Session: A Failed Encore

The Melancholy

I wrote about my original encounter with SC in my post A Shitty Session.

He called me a week later and asked for another session. This was a surprise because he’s my friend J’s client. Wouldn’t he be calling her? I asked if he wanted to do another double. He said he just wanted to see me. Inwardly I groaned.

I do more single session than doubles. But with a client like SC it’s better to have someone else around. I don’t think he’d attack me. And certainly he’s old and frail enough that I’m sure I’d win in a fight. But his roaming hands and boundary pushing were easier to deal with because J was there. As I was mulling all this over in my head, SC demanded a session the next day.

When I say demand that’s just it. SC said-”Meet me tomorrow in (city) at (time).” There was no question. It was a statement on what I “should” do. Normally I like a week’s notice and said so. This didn’t faze him. I’ll double your fee he said dismissively.

Double your fee. That phrase is tricksy. It’s the middle of summer slowdown so of course I said yes. It’d be a pain but I could rearrange my day. But I was also worried. Wouldn’t SC expect more out of the session? I tried to check in with him-”You just want to do a repeat of our last session?” He doesn’t like to be questioned. His answer of “sure, sure” sounded more like a brush off. I wonder if he used to be a manager or something similar. His tone is one of barking orders.

Mr. Radical and I made our plans for the next day. He’d drop me off and wait nearby. We’d do a safe call. I checked in with my sex worker instincts. I didn’t think SC would hurt me. But I had a strong feeling that the roaming hands would be worse and he’s be a major dick with the time.

The next day I was having my morning coffee when SC called. He never says hello or asks how you’re doing. It’s just him telling you what he wants. “I have to cancel. My business trip has moved a day early.” As I was wrapping my head around all this (I’m not a morning person) SC said “I’ll call you next week” and hung up.

What the hell? Did he really have a change in business plans? Did he just not want to fork out the fee? Who knows. He didn’t call back the next week. My friend J hasn’t heard from him either.

I didn’t know whether to feel disappointed or relieved. I suppose a little of both.

Posted by Vixen as PSO Confessions at 1:30 PM CDT

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July 5th, 2010

A Shitty Session

The Melancholy

A few years ago I wrote about a Great Session I did in person. This year I have a perspective from the other end-I had a shitty in person session. (I’ll call the client Shitty Client.)

The session started off promising. My sex worker friend J pulled me in as a second Mistress. We’ve worked together before so I was looking forward to it. Sessions with another sex worker are typically easier and more fun.

SC is a new client for J. She warned me that he’s rather ADD in his desires and a chain smoker. Neither of those things are a deal killer and both of us felt confident in the session.

We got the hotel that day and dressed up in our respective roles-me as the Mistress and her as the Switch. The plan was that we’d both dominate SC part of the time and then I’d dominate them both.

Minutes before showing up SC calls and asks us to go get ice for him. We were already decked out in our session clothes and told him he could get ice when he got here. He complained about that when he showed up. I didn’t think this a big deal at the time but looking back I see it as a bad beginning. But the session had started.

The reason for the ice? SC had brought some whiskey. A quick look at J told me that she was just as surprised by this as I was. I’ve met with clients that have served wine during the session and was fine with it. But this just felt different. He pulled out a flask and demanded cups.

I suppose I should segway a tad and talk about SC’s demands. He had a style of speaking that was very demanding. Even if he was following orders and playing submissive he’d still demand something of us. Again, not a deal killer but it was just another quirk that ruffled my feathers.

Anyway, SC wanted all of us to drink. I’ll drink some wine during sessions, sure. But hard liquor? That didn’t seem like a good idea. J had a real excuse of no alcohol because of medication. But SC made it clear that the session wasn’t starting until one of us drank with him. J and I exchanged glances. I’d drink some of the whiskey.

There is something special about working with another sex worker. During a session we can send messages to each other through nods, winks, nudges, etc. Throughout this session J and I were “talking” this way.

I practiced safe drinking by grabbing the flask before SC could open it. Pretending to faun over the label I inspected the cap to make sure it hadn’t been opened. The sound of the label breaking was a relief. I poured myself a little bit and poured SC more. He picked it up and poured more alcohol into my glass. J fake joked that the Mistress couldn’t get drunk. SC didn’t take the hint and told us we should smoke and drink together first.

Sometimes I took real sips from my cup, other times I just let the whiskey wet my lips. When SC started urging me to drink faster I just let the whiskey spill down my chin and neck while he wasn’t looking. Another time I strutted around the room to show off my skirt and dumped the alcohol down the sink.

While I was handling the liquor, J was dealing with the smoking. She’s a light smoker; I’m a nonsmoker. She lit up with SC who turned out to be quite the chain smoker. He’d smoke one after the other, lighting the new one with the old. I noticed how J managed to smoke less. She mostly let her cigarette burn in the ashtray. When she did pick it up she inhaled lightly. And every time SC put out his cigarette she’d put out hers, even if it was only half way burned. SC would then light her another. By the end of the session my throat hurt from all the smoke in the room.

After settling into the drinks and cigs SC paid us our fee. “Make sure you count this,” he said as he handed us our fees. It was one of those awkward moments-counting right in front of him would be sort of tacky. It looked like the right amount so we didn’t.

SC kept stalling on starting the kink play. We tried to introduce different activities but he’d complain that we were rushing things. Then while drinking he’d complain that we hadn’t started. “I’ve paid you enough for three weeks,” he told us several times. That was ludicrous but we didn’t point it out. The look on J’s face told me she was thinking the same thing I was-he’s going to dick around with the time.

He had wanted golden showers and lots of them. One good thing about the alcohol was that it filled up my bladder fast. But SC wouldn’t get started. Finally I stood up and said I’m peeing NOW and grabbed a container.

Though he insisted on golden showers he balked at being ordered to drink it. My patience was being tried. Why was he being so difficult!?! Once he sipped the glass of pee though he drank it right up.

Another problem started shortly after the first golden shower. SC had roaming hands. Different sex workers have different boundaries. If you go see a stripper there’s rules on where or if you can touch her. It’s the same with a mistress. SC didn’t respect boundaries at all. Over and over he tried grabbing our breasts and asses. I can’t tell you how many times I redirected his hands but I can tell you it was frustrating. He knew what he was doing too. He’d wait until I was distracted with spanking him to try to grab a handful. Eventually I had J hold his hands while I swatted his ass.

Near the end of the session SC started complaining about the time. Dammit, we were expecting that! He said we had 4 or 5 hours with him. I was still thinking of a rebuttal when J took charge. She dropped all pretense of mistress and spoke in her don’t-fuck-with-me voice. She reviewed the whole deal-the fee, the time, the agreed on play. SC tried to protest and she reviewed it again.

He switched tactics. “Well if you don’t want to stay I guess I’ll be here all alone.” Argh!!! One way to quickly piss off a sex worker is to fuck around on the agreed on deal during the session. I was quietly fuming.

We tried wrapping up, even spinning a “to be continued” fantasy in case he wanted to see us again. SC was having none of it. He just pretended that the session wasn’t ending. Again, J took charge. She matter-of-factly told SC we had to get going and started getting dressed in her normal clothes. I followed her lead and got dressed myself.

SC wasn’t moving. “Maybe I’ll take a nap and you’ll play with me when you get back,” he said. We told him that was fine and even pulled back the covers on the bed. It was our hotel room and we were leaving him in it!

We took all our toys and the room keys and left. As we walked to J’s car she said-Oh my God, never again!” I agreed.

When we got in the car I had a feeling we should count the money. Sure enough SC shorted me $60. Not enough to go back and complain but it was just one more shitty thing for him to do. J picked up the hotel tab for me since I got shorted which was a sweet gesture. Sex worker solidarity baby!

I drove by the hotel later that day to make sure SC had left. He was driving out as I was driving in, though I don’t think he recognized me. Ironically, SC asked for another session shortly after this one. Apparently he had “a great time playing with you girls”. That was a surprise to hear considering his actions during the session conveyed the opposite.

Posted by Vixen as PSO Confessions at 11:34 PM CDT


June 11th, 2010

My Worst Call

Sometimes people ask me what call was my worst. I respond with “I once had a call that gave me a nightmare”. (I was sure I had blogged about this before but I just searched my archives and it doesn’t seem like I have.)

I had been a PSO for a few years so had already heard plenty of bizarre things. This client though freaked me out. I’ll call him Worst Caller.

The call started out pretty normal. WC was nice enough and it was a standard sex call. Then he turned it into a kidnap/rape fantasy where we kidnapped a neighbor and kept her in the basement. I don’t like doing rape fantasies but they’re easy enough. Typically the rape victim is the guy I’m talking to and he loves being the slut in the end.

WC then changed the fantasy. He started talking about how he wanted to be violent towards the woman. Suddenly he was describing the most disgusting, violent acts. I don’t want to write the details of it but it sounded like a scene from a horror movie.

This maybe lasted five, ten minutes. But if felt much longer. The creepiness factor was amped up by WC’s cheery voice and his moans. He would tell me some violent detail and then in his chipper voice say “oh yeah” before moaning.

I was stunned into silence. My mouth had dropped open and I just sat frozen in place. “This is not happening,” I kept telling myself. It was just too disturbing. I knew I had to stop the call but I couldn’t find my voice.

He was talking about using knives on different parts of the body when I was finally able to speak. It was more like a squeak. WC said, “Oh. You know, you don’t seem that into this.”

“No I’m not,” I said. My voice sounded hoarse though I hadn’t been screaming.

“Well, why don’t you describe giving me a blowjob so I can get off,” WC said.

In a daze I did just that. It was probably a bad fantasy on my part but I felt extremely uncomfortable. WC came and thanked me in his cheery tone.

After the call I did my notes-writing DO NOT TALK TO AGAIN next to his name.

That night I had trouble falling asleep. The call really troubled me. I had had other extreme fantasies but nothing like this one. Even if I don’t understand the fetish I normally can empathize. Not with WC. His fantasy just sickened me.

The nightmare was a version of his fantasy. I woke up in a panic and the typical night sweats. To calm myself I kept saying “it’s not real” over and over. I got up, washed my face and ate a snack to relax. I managed to fall back asleep but felt like shit the next morning.

I updated WC’s notes with “gave me nightmares”. He was the first client that I decided never to talk to again.

WC didn’t call back and I was glad. For the most part I forgot about him. Occasionally when someone would ask about my worse call I would remember WC. Thankfully I didn’t have any more nightmares.

Three years later WC called me. He has a very distinctive voice and I recognized it. Something about it made me tense. Putting him on hold I looked up his name in my notes. Sure enough it was him.

Though I was disgusted by his fantasy I still thought it was his right to have it. But there was no way I was talking to him again. I picked up the phone and told him that we had talked before; he hadn’t remembered.

When I told him I couldn’t do the call WC asked why. I was vague at first, telling him that I found it upsetting. He persisted though and said we could talk about something else. Finally, I was honest. “You’re fantasy gave me nightmares and I don’t think I can handle talking to you again.”

I wasn’t trying to be a bitch although I’m sure it sounded mean. In a little voice WC said “I’m sorry” and hung up. That’s the last I heard of him.

Posted by Vixen as PSO Confessions at 10:18 PM CDT

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