Alexa’s Update # 10
August 27, 2008
I know I’m a couple of days late on this, but there really hasn’t been much to update you on. I’ve seen a few clients, but nothing has really stood out as something y’all might be interested in. I am still seeing Rick many mornings around 6AM, and he’s still forking out the cash for nothing more than a blowjob and the occasional quick fuck before his staff starts showing up. I have also scheduled my fetish party gig for next weekend, and I’m sure some story will come out of that.
I’ve spent a couple of days working on my post about decriminalizing prostitution. If you haven’t read it yet, please do so and let me know your thoughts - I am genuinely curious as to what people think about my proposal.
Much of the Bay Area is under a “Red Flag Warning” today - this is code for a very high fire danger. The temps have once again been into the 100-degree range - its surreal, really.
I leave tomorrow to go home to see Nikki. I can’t begin to tell you how excited I am about that. For a couple of days earlier this week, I was afraid that Hurricane Gustav was going to fuck things up. The initial projected track of the storm had it going straight up into the southern portions of Florida. Over the past couple of days, though, the weather gurus (such as they are) are now saying it is going to head on over to New Orleans and shouldn’t interfere with my trip home at all. 
I started classes this week, and there’s nothing like making an embarrassing first impression. For some reason I thought my early class was on Tuesdays, so I showed up yesterday morning for my first class, only to discover that I was there on the wrong day, and therefore in the wrong class. 
Anyway, the class is one that I’ll end up taking later in my graduate career anyway, so it was nice to see what it was going to be about. I did make it to the early (correct) class this morning just fine. All three of my classes look like they’re going to be really interesting, too. For one class I have nine required texts, along with some research journals and other material that has to be read and digested. There’s going to be a good bit of writing involved in these as well. Fortunately, I like to write about sexuality, so I should be okay. 
And for most of them I’ll be in with the same group of people. There’s about 20 of us starting the program this fall, and most of the rest of the group have some unique and interesting characteristics, experiences and life goals. It’ll be interesting to work with these folks as my time here progresses.
Anyway, like I said, I’ll be out of town until next Tuesday, so you probably won’t hear much from me, though I will be keeping up with any comments I get.
Enjoy your week. 
Decriminalization vs. Legalization
August 26, 2008
There’s been a lot of discussion in a variety of different venues over the past several years with respect to legalizing prostitution to one degree or another. Just about everyone is familiar with the fact that prostitution is illegal in the U.S. with the exception of some places in Nevada. You may not be aware that the exchange of sex for money is legal in Rhode Island as well, though that is largely the result of a loophole in the state law outlawing prostitution at large (it specifically outlaws solicitation on the street and the operation of brothels, but makes no mention of the exchange of sex for money in a private setting, and therefore private prostitution is technically legal).
I’ve been involved in several raucous classroom discussions about whether or not sex in exchange for something of value ought to be legal, and some of them have involved very heated exchanges between those who favor legalization and those who believe it ought to remain illegal. In every one of those cases, believe it or not, the overwhelming majority of people in the class favored making it legal. And, interestingly, more women (in my classes) have been in favor of legalization than men.
There are two approaches to the legalization of prostitution that many people tend to conflate with one another, though the differences between the terminology of the two is mostly one of semantics. But many sex work advocacy organizations do differentiate between the two, and I am inclined to do as well to make the differences easier to discuss.
The first of these two approaches is legalization. Legalization, as it is used by most advocates involves making prostitution patently legal and developing a regulatory scheme to control and tax it. This is the way it is done in Nevada. Any county with a population of less than 400K (which is every county except for those where Las Vegas and Reno are located) is free to allow brothels to operate, and to set up rules and regulations to control how the brothels and those who work in them operate. And there are tons of rules governing everything from the licensing of the prostitutes to specific sex acts that are prohibited.
The other approach is known as decriminalization. This involves simply doing away with the statutes outlawing prostitution. This is the approach favored by most advocates because it removes the necessity of having the state act as a “pimp” and controlling or extorting money from individual sex workers (usually through requiring the purchase of expensive “licenses”). Technically speaking, the situation in Rhode Island is akin to decriminalization, albeit unintentionally. (To Rhode Island’s credit, though, the state legislature has resisted several attempts to close the loophole).
The major difference between the two is that with the latter there are no prostitution-specific regulations imposed by the state. Rather, regulation of the industry is accomplished primarily through existing statutes and regulations covering employment and public health (for example).
There are pros and cons to both approaches, and where you fall typically has something to do with the role you believe the government ought to play in prostitution. Many people believe government having any role at all infringes upon the rights of the workers to earn a living in a manner of their choosing, while there are others who see it as a legitimate role of government to ensure the integrity and safety of the work itself, those who perform it, and those who use its services.
I tend to believe that at least some modicum of regulation is necessary to ensure that the industry operates with minimal basic standards, to ensure the safety of the workers and their clients, and to allow the community to integrate sex work into the local economic infrastructure. I therefore favor some government regulatory role in prostitution. As much as those who think it should be totally unregulated would like to believe, any industry left unchecked will tend toward taking advantage of the workers and the clients by its nature, so I believe there is a need for at least a minimal involvement of the government in order to help keep things on the up and up.
So, given all of this, I was sitting around last night thinking about how I’d structure the regulation of the industry if I could design my own set of rules and regulations, and the following is what I came up with.
Alexa’s Model Prostitution Law
If I had to design my own laws regarding the legalization of prostitution, this is what I’d do. I know much of this disagrees with what many activists think ought to be done, but the purpose of my rules would be to make it safe and legal for them to work and ensure the safety and confidentiality of their clients.
Unlike many of the advocacy groups, I would not try to dispense with eons of stigmatization associated with sex work. While I believe that is a laudable goal, I don’t believe it is reasonable to expect to be able to do that in today’s society. Not at this point, at any rate. We certainly should strive for that, of course, but in the interim we need to approach this from a more practical perspective.
The first thing I’d do is remove all existing laws against prostitution from the books and start from scratch, with the exception of those involving the trafficking of humans (and make those applicable to all forms of human trafficking, not just sex workers). It would remain illegal to force or coerce anyone into working in prostitution, or to employ anyone under the age of 18 as a prostitute, or to work as a prostitute if you’re under the age of 18. Some might advocate for an age of 21, but I know many women who’ve worked as prostitutes to put themselves through college and it simply isn’t necessary to force them to wait until they’re 21 to do that. They can get any other job at 18, so prostitution should be just as much a solution for them as anything else.
Now for the specifics:
Streetwalking and solicitation would remain illegal. There are two significant reasons why I believe this should continue to be illegal. There are are a variety of safety issues involved, especially with respect to the sex workers themselves. Streetwalkers are many times more likely to be raped or killed than any other category of sex worker. Working from the street is about as unsafe as you can get in this industry, in fact. Many of the advocate groups claim this is the result of the fact that prostitution is illegal to begin with, but any time you get into random vehicles with strangers, you run the risk of being abducted, beaten, raped, and possibly killed, whether what you’re doing is legal or not.
The second reason involves quality of life issues in neighborhoods. While I think you should be free to engage in your chosen line of work wherever you wish, I don’t think it is unreasonable for neighborhoods to not want prostitutes on their streets. Removing the criminalization of streetwalking would allow prostitutes to set up shop in any neighborhood they wish.
I just can’t see any rational basis for legalizing street-based solicitation, in all actuality. If anyone can offer a coherent reason to do so, I’d sure be interested to hear it. I have seen advocacy groups openly suggest making street walking legal, but I don’t think you stand even the remotest of chance of getting something like that passed. Ever. The exchange of sex for money should take place indoors, in private, between consenting adults.
What would I do with those arrested on the street? Well, that’s a good question. I don’t know for sure, but I wouldn’t treat them like the criminal justice system does now. See my point below about creating programs to get prostitutes out of the business - maybe that would be a solution.
Jurisdictions would be prohibited from requiring “registration” or “licensing” of prostitutes. There’s no legitimate reason for this. Requiring sex workers to register puts their name in public records as being involved in sex work. For many, it is a private matter and they ought not be required to put this kind of personal information out there for future employers, pervs, lawyers, and anyone else with an agenda to be able to get a hold of. Being labeled a sex worker also carries restrictions with respect to subjects like international travel (some countries refuse to permit sex workers to enter), for example. The only legitimate reason one could argue for doing this would be to ensure medical testing is accomplished, and I’ll address that in a minute.
There is an argument that it is a good idea to do background checks. Why? Why would it be a problem for someone with say, a shoplifting charge, or even a robbery charge on their record to be a prostitute? Why would that be any more of a problem than any other personal service worker having a similar record (and for whom we don’t require background checks)? I believe the Nevada law even prohibits someone who’s been convicted of prostitution from becoming a prostitute. There’s some logic for you. I do think it would be a good idea to prohibit anyone whose been convicted of any type of organized crime or public corruption from owning or operating brothels or working as agents for sex workers, though.
Regardless, if the legislature sees some need to prohibit someone with a particular crime in their background from engaging in prostitution, make it a crime to do so. If they get caught prostituting with this in their background, then they can be charged with some violation of that law. There’s no reason for local law enforcement to extort money from sex workers in the name of “licensing” them. I’d have no problem with jurisdictions requiring prostitutes to have a standard business license if A) they require all other self-employed, personal-service individuals to have them, and B) they don’t set “special” (read: high) rates for prostitutes.
Prostitutes would be prohibited from seeing more than one, perhaps two, clients at a residence, either a house in a residential neighborhood, apartment, condo, etc. Neighborhoods have the right to ensure the value of the housing remains stable, and that a suitable climate to raise a family is maintained. Having a lot of traffic would draw attention to the fact that someone was seeing a lot of people, result in traffic and congestion problems, etc. Like it or not, having a de facto brothel in a neighborhood does bring down property values and negatively impacts the quality of life in those neighborhoods from a variety of standpoints. Therefore, if a prostitute was going to see client in his/her own home (incalls), then s/he could see no more than one or two in any 24 hour period under my plan. The option for outcalls is there, as would be renting/leasing space in brothels or other facilities in areas zoned to allow prostitution (see below).
Prostitutes would not be required to work in brothels. Nevada requires all prostitutes to work in brothels, and while I’ve spoken with some prostitutes who are okay with that, Amanda’s experience clearly shows that it is not necessarily the best environment for every sex worker. Certainly it should be an option, but many sex workers don’t want to work in this type of restrictive environment and shouldn’t have to give up that much of their freedom just to be able to earn a living.
Brothels cannot be zoned completely out of any city over a certain population. They could be restricted to commercial or industrial areas if necessary, but allowing individual large cities to simply zone them out of existence would be disallowed. I don’t necessarily have a specific population in mind, but something on the order of the largest cities within the state would require brothels that otherwise operated within the law be allowed to operate unmolested by local law enforcement and other officials. Law enforcement and public health agencies would have the right to inspect the facilities to ensure no one was working illegally and that all relevant health codes were being followed, of course. Jurisdictions would have the right to set reasonable health codes/practices for brothels if they so desire, and perhaps reasonable restrictions on the size or number of employees of brothels in any given zoning class. Local jurisdictions would have no zoning or land use regulatory authority over individual sex workers, however.
The state or local jurisdictions could not legislate or outlaw specific practices. The specific activities that take place between two consenting individuals should be left to them, and the government has no business deciding what these two people should do in the privacy of their own sexual relationship, even if it is one revolving around a financial transaction, so long as both parties are amenable to it (see the point on contracts below). This includes anal sex, BDSM activities, or any other activity that is legal between consenting adults who are in any other type of relationship.
There could be no children or minors in any place where prostitution was being practiced. This applies largely to individual houses and other residences. While it may be permissible to practice prostitution in one’s own residence, doing so with children or other minors in the place would be a crime. I know this would present a hardship for the single mother who’s trying to make ends meet and take care of her children, but kids should not be exposed to this kind of activity at all. Anyone found prostituting a child would face felony charges, as well the likely loss of custody of their children.
Written contracts would be required between the prostitute and the client. This contract would be executed at the beginning of the transaction, and would specify exactly what services the prostitute is prepared to offer, for how much, and for what time period. Further, it’d require the client to certify that s/he understands what the words “no” and “stop” mean, and the prostitute’s safe/stop words and that failure to honor those at any point during the transaction, might result in a charge of rape. Law enforcement and the judicial system would be required to treat any such claim of rape as legitimate until it was determined to be otherwise.
Prostitutes would be required to be tested periodically, perhaps once or twice a month. I know a lot of activists don’t like this at all, but I think the government has a compelling interest in preventing the transfer of STDs. The reason no transmission of STDs has been documented between prostitutes and clients in Nevada is because the law requires the prostitutes be tested every week. I would require public health departments to perform the testing and to do so anonymously, just like HIV testing has been done for years. The prostitutes would be required to show their latest test results to any client who requested to see them (as well as local public health officials), and if the prostitute knowingly saw clients without full disclosure after a positive result before the disease was remediated, s/he’d be charged with some type of assault. If the state’s laws did not already address this type of assault specifically, they’d need to be modified to do so. Note that I didn’t say that prostitutes wouldn’t be allowed to see clients if they were infected - there are plenty of things sex workers can do that don’t involve the exchange of bodily fluids or otherwise present a risk for infection. The problem comes in when the infection isn’t disclosed - then it becomes an issue.
And yes, I realize that prostitutes only account for about 2-3% of all STD transmissions. And I know that, in some cases, the latency time between infection and detectability makes tests a less than 100% reliable indicator. I don’t believe that should preclude using as many reasonable safety mechanisms as possible, however.
What about testing of the clients, you say? As soon a someone shows me a legitimate, logistically feasible way to test clients on such a massive scale, I’d be happy to entertain that requirement as well. As of now, it just isn’t feasible to require STD testing of all clients.
Well, you say, we don’t require food workers to be tested for things like Hepatitis, which infects a great many people each year. Perhaps we should. The fact of the matter is that Hepatitis and other non-STD infections are not considered “private” or stigmatized diseases and there’s a lot of publicity associated with them when an outbreak occurs. STDs are stigmatized diseases and not discussed openly as a general rule, so there isn’t the kind of public attention paid to them that we see with food-borne illnesses or other human-borne infectious diseases. Therefore, the best way I see to mitigate the potential for infection transfer is to require workers to be tested. I personally get tested once a month on my own anyway, and I don’t see that as intrusive at all. In fact, I see it as a very responsible thing to do for myself and my clients.
Some have asserted that a clean test might lead to clients pressuring workers for bareback sex, and I agree, that is certainly a potential. I think this is a point that must be negotiated between the worker and the client as a part of the contract process. If the contract stated that protection must be used and the client attempts or performs sex without one, then he’s violated the contract and would be guilty of a sexual assault (or whatever crime the state elected to define it as). And, for the record, I am not in favor of mandated condom use - I think that should be between the worker and the client, and if both can establish that they’re clean and want to have condom-free sex, then that should be their prerogative.
Prostitutes would be required to keep records of their clients. These records would be confidential and be available to law enforcement only with a subpoena during criminal investigations, and public health officials when tracking down STD infections. Tax officials might also have access to these to ensure workers were paying their fair share of taxes.
Services/Agencies would be prohibited from charging the prostitute more than 25% of the client’s fee for their services. While I personally think pimping ought to be wholly illegal, I recognize that many prostitutes will not/could not work independently and would prefer to have a service arrange the scheduling and so forth. With the work no longer being illegal, there wouldn’t be quite the number of risk factors the agency would need to mitigate (i.e., vetting for law enforcement, etc.). The agency would largely be functioning only as a booking agent for the prostitute, so the days of the 40-50% fee share would be gone. Agencies of a certain size would be required to provide some form of health insurance and other benefits to its workers, contract or otherwise. Agencies would be required to disclose any unique problems or issues a particular client exhibited that might impact the sex worker so that situations like THIS could be avoided. Failure to do so would subject the agency to liability for damages.
Offer economic incentives for groups of individuals to form co-operative brothels. This is an idea I got from reading Amanda’s writing, and something that a group of sex workers are trying to implement in time for the Olympics in Vancouver, Canada. The sex workers themselves would own and operate the brothel, they’d share in the costs required to operate it, and the profits would be split among them, not a pimp or an absentee owner. I’d try to find a way to provide some form of tax break or other economic incentive to encourage this kind of cooperative effort.
Public services and appurtenances, including social services agencies, public health and welfare agencies, workers compensation laws, discrimination laws, legal services, safe workplace rules, etc., would apply to sex work just as they do any other service job. All public sector agencies would be required to treat sex workers with the same respect and dignity afforded to any other class of worker, and extend all rights, benefits and privileges associated with their functions to sex workers just as they would any other class of worker, including the right to sue, the right to petition for redress, to file discrimination suits, etc. Health and medical professionals would be prohibited from refusing to treat sex workers because of their work, all other things being equal. Insurance companies would be prevented from charging sex workers significantly higher rates unless they can definitively show a higher degree of risk based on job description.
Create community-based programs to help sex workers leave the field when they’re ready. I’d probably fund this through some sort of tax on the client, but the funds would go to community-based organizations that work to help sex workers leave the industry, regardless of how they got in, why they wish to get out, or which strata they occupy.
So that pretty much wraps up what I’d consider doing if it were up to me. I do believe that this represents a fairly middle-of-the-road approach to it, and I’d be interested in any thoughts, ideas, comments, or suggestions you guys might have.
Role Reversal
August 21, 2008
Sometimes, it’s just more fun to lie there and be fucked.
In a conversation I was having with a close friend a couple of days ago, we were discussing sexual relationships and the role of the aggressor, or perhaps more accurately, the dominant - the one who controls the sexual tension in the relationship. For the majority of my sexual life (which began in the latter part of my 14th year), I have almost invariably been the aggressor. I was the one who initiated sexual activity and controlled how far it went, how often we did it, and how hot it got for the most part.
I had four boyfriends during my time in high school, and in each of those cases the relationships were largely egalitarian - coequal in just about every way. Going into it, each guy knew that I was headstrong and wasn’t going to be someone they could walk over, emotionally, intellectually or sexually. Three of them found that exhilarating, believe it or not. That tends to go against the archetypal relationship dynamic many people have in their minds about male-female relationships, especially those among high school aged couples. Admittedly, though, I was an exception; I knew plenty of examples where the relationship was not only not coequal, but terribly biased toward one member of the pair (and it wasn’t just the males being the stronger of the pair exclusively, either).
After I’d had my first experience with another girl, I went on a tear, seducing as many girls as I could (when I wasn’t in a relationship with a boy). My initial justification was providing them with the same experience I’d had on that fantastic New Year’s Eve. In fact, the sex I had with first three girls I was with after that evening was largely an educational endeavor with my best friends. I wanted my closest friends to experience the intensity I’d felt that evening, so I set out to teach them about lesbian sex (though I refused to even call it that at that point in my life). We literally spent time researching sexual topics and then imparting that knowledge unto one another. I’d had several all-girl threesomes and foursomes by the time I turned 16. Looking back on that now, I am literally quite shocked that they all acquiesced as easily as they did without freaking out.
As time went on, I began to enjoy the thrill of taking a new girl into that experience; by the time I’d graduated from high school, I’d been with ten different girls, some multiple times, some just once. To this day, I have no idea if many of them consider themselves straight, bisexual or what. One of my BFFs has come out to herself and a few close friends as gay, and is in the United States Marine Corps. She’s in the band and just returned from her second tour in Iraq. Aside from Nikki, she’s the only high school friend whose sexuality I am knowledgeable about.
This carried over into the early part of my college career. It literally became sport fucking for me - I wanted to see how many women I could get into bed. I took advantage of the new found freedom that many people experience when they get away from home for the first time, unconstrained by the need to “behave,” and the willingness to experiment. I literally spent weeks, even months, chasing individual women specifically to see if I could convince them to walk on the opposite side of the tracks. By any reasonable measure, I was very successful. In fact, I can count on one hand the number of times I failed.
The one constant throughout all of this, of course, is the fact that I was always the instigator, the pursuer, the aggressor, when it came to the sexual aspects in all of these relationships.
It is hardly any different with my clients. I am still the one who initiates and/or controls what we do, how long we do it, how far we go, etc. So, even though the client initiated the appointment, I still retain the ultimate control. This is necessary to ensure my safety and to keep the dynamic balanced with respect to the transaction taking place. This is a fundamental concept behind making sex work safe and consensual. If the client exerts too much control over the situation, then I lose my agency and the transaction becomes akin to slavery or abuse.
And, while it’s a lot of fun to be the one who initiates and controls the sex, especially with someone who’s never been down that road before, the past couple of years have seen me become more and more interested in exploring the opposite end of the spectrum - being the submissive one; the one who is on the receiving end of sexual pursuit; the one who’s being done, rather than the one doing someone else.
As you know, if you’ve spent any time reading my original series of posts, I’ve spent some time exploring some avenues of submissiveness, mainly through indulging personal fantasies. I started down the road for real when I went through the process of getting my first facial. That is a rather benign expression of submissiveness, of course, but my own personal fantasies have included some extremes, including one of being gang raped*.
This is the root of why I find my experiences with Chase so intense. She’s the one in the driver’s seat most of the time, and I find allowing myself to submit to her, to be penetrated by her, to have my sex controlled by her, highly erotic. This just works to intensify the sexual chemistry that exists between us to begin with. I find myself wondering if the girls and women I was with in my early years felt the same way I do when I am being fucked by her. I’d sure like to hope so, but, as you know, we each experience sex on such an individual level that it’d be impossible to know for sure without asking them (and who asks that kind of question after sex? lol)
She lets me take the opposite role, easily. And, in fact, I do that during our sexual encounters - we reverse roles quite often in bed. My sexual relationship with Nikki is, for all intents and purposes, very similar as well - we can both be the aggressor or the submissive in any given sex session. Neither one of us maintains as sexually dominant across any specific length of time, and I absoultely adore that. Some days she’ll ask me if I’d like to have sex; on others, she’ll just push me down and fuck me.
I think, to be a sexually balanced individual, you should be able to switch from one role to the other to a degree. Not necessarily seamlessly, but in some kind of combination that allows you to experience a broad realm of experiences so as to make one whole sexually. Not unlike having a balance between emotion and logic, if you will. I think others would probably disagree with that, but it is just my personal opinion.
I have yet to experience it, but I know a lot of escorts have male clients that want to be controlled, that want to be penetrated, dominated, fucked. As I said here, this is a common expression for someone who spends the majority of his/her life “in control” - they want to be done to, rather than the one responsible for doing. What’s sad, to me anyway, is that these people don’t feel free to express that within the confines of the relationships they have with their wives, girlfriends, or partners. I do, however, understand why it isn’t safe to do that, or, rather, why the perception that it isn’t safe exists.
I often reflect back on my high school time and wonder how things would’ve been different had I been the one who was pursued by another female. In the absence of having had an experience with another girl, how would I have felt? Would I have found it enticing? Would I have been reluctant? Would I have been scared? Would I have had an orgasm? 
Had I had the same curiosity streak I possessed in high school, I believe I would have enjoyed it because I have always been driven to know as much as I could about anything that held my interest, including, especially, sexuality. And I honestly believe that I would’ve craved the experience. The difference would have been that I probably would’ve lacked the confidence to make it happen; I would’ve waited for someone to pursue me.
In the end, though, I can’t honestly say that I am disappointed with the way things have turned out.
*This is a password-protected post, so you’ll need to contact me for the password.
Alexa’s Update # 9
August 18, 2008
So, yesterday was my birthday. I didn’t do anything spectacular. I spent the morning doing laundry, then went grocery shopping, and saw a client last night. I did take a few minutes and head over the Cheesecake Factory and bought me a piece of banana cream cheesecake. Pathetic, I know, but I sure did enjoy the cake! Ha!
I had a client this week who I guess may have been a borderline asthmatic. While we were fucking in a missionary position, he had his face to the left of mine, and he was wheezing. lol I was like, oh gosh, please don’t go into an asthma attack in the middle of all of this. 
He didn’t, by the way. 
I had a fairly aggressive client this week as well. Not aggressive as in mean, but a guy who really enjoyed the rough sex. I always have this little bug in the back of my mind, “What if he goes too far? How will I react?“ I always give them my safe word, but until you actually get to that point, you never truly know how it would play out. We didn’t get anywhere near my limit, but obviously, I still have to keep on guard. This guy really got off on face fucking, too. He actually straddled my face and fucked it - it was the first time I seriously gagged during a sexual encounter since I started this line of work. Normally, I start off going down on a client, and gradually work my way to the point where my throat relaxes and I can take a cock all the way down. But this one started out fucking me, and my throat hadn’t had time to “warm up” as it were (the position didn’t help, either, of course). To top it all off, I had something occur to me that was wholly unrelated to anything related to the client or even to work in general, and that kind of made me lose concentration on what was going on right in front of me. Literally. Awkward, much.
Other randomness:
The control panel for Wordpress tracks the search strings that people use to find your site. And there’ve been some doozies people have used to find me here. lol By far the most common ways to find me are with “throat fucking” (referring to my entry on how to throat fuck), and “real princess diaries.” I often wonder how many people are looking for something purely benign and end up here. I bring this up because someone found RPD last Wednesday afternoon through a search for “cumming out of eyes.” WTF?
Nikki’s at home weathering a tropical storm today. Although TS Fay is bothering the Keys and the west coast of Florida more than the east coast, the winds and rains are still pretty tough on the eastern side as well. Fortunately, our house was built fairly recently and to the stronger codes, so we’re not worried about it being damaged. We survived Hurricane Wilma together a few years ago, so I know she’ll do okay. We’ve been texting back and forth all day about what’s going on there.
I finally start graduate school next week. I am *so* looking forward to being in a routine and being responsible for something other than fucking people.
That’s about it this time. You guys have an awesome week, and those of you in Florida stay dry and safe.
23
August 17, 2008
Today is my birthday. I turn 23. I’ll be getting gray hairs before you know it.
This birthday is the first in seven years that Nikki isn’t sharing it with me, and while I have a great group of e-friends who’ve wished me happy birthday and whatnot, I’d still give almost anything to be with her today. 
This is one of my favorite songs, and it is so appropriate for how I feel today.
When You’re Gone ~Avril Lavigne
I always needed time on my own
I never thought I’d need you there when I cry
And the days feel like years when I’m alone
And the bed where you lie is made up on your side
When you walk away I count the steps that you take
Do you see how much I need you right now
When you’re gone
The pieces of my heart are missing you
When you’re gone
The face I came to know is missing too
When you’re gone
The words I need to hear to always get me through the day and make it ok
I miss you
I’ve never felt this way before
Everything that I do reminds me of you
And the clothes you left, they lie on the floor
And they smell just like you, I love the things that you do
When you walk away I count the steps that you take
Do you see how much I need you right now
When you’re gone
The pieces of my heart are missing you
When you’re gone
The face I came to know is missing too
When you’re gone
The words I need to hear to always get me through the day and make it ok
I miss you
We were made for each other
Out here forever
I know we were, yeah
All I ever wanted was for you to know
Everything I’d do, I’d give my heart and soul
I can hardly breathe I need to feel you here with me, yeah
When you’re gone
The pieces of my heart are missing you
When you’re gone
The face I came to know is missing too
When you’re gone
The words I need to hear to always get me through the day and make it ok
I miss you
Chase Me, Fuck Me.
August 16, 2008
I was horny Wednesday afternoon, and wanted someone to play with for my pleasure.
I keyed into my Blackberry, “You’re a hot little bitch.” and hit the SEND button.
“U wanna play 2nite?”
The text message exchange was short and succinct, but it got the point across.
“Yes. Are you free?”
“4 U, yes.”
So I called Chase. She could tell in my voice I was in a playful mood, and she reacted to that. “You wanna come over here and do me, don’t you?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Yes, but the feeling is mutual, so why don’t you show up around 11 or so? Will that work?”
“Yes, ma’am, it will. I’ll see you then.”
I spent the rest of the evening daydreaming about what might happen, and masturbated twice before I even left the apartment.
When I arrived at her house, I rang the doorbell. “Come on in.” As I walked through the door, I threw my purse down, pulled the sweatshirt over my head, and dropped my sweatpants before I even shut the door behind me, standing there as naked as the day I was born.
“Oh, dear god.” Chase came walking over to me, stripping out of her clothes as well. Our faces met and we spent several minutes tongue fucking each others’ mouths, sucking each others’ tongues, biting each others lips, pulling each others’ hair, and exploring each others’ bodies with our hands and fingers. Chase ran her fingers down my tummy. When they got between my legs, she stuck her middle finger in my cunt and pulled it out. She looked at it, admiring the sheen in which it was now encased. “You slut.” She moved it up to my mouth with a look that told me what I was expected to do next. I took it into my mouth, sucking it and teasing it with my tongue like I would had it been her cock. She grabbed my hand and we headed back to her bedroom, where we spent an untold amount of time just exploring each others’ erotic spaces, physically and spiritually.
At one point, as I ran my tongue from her neck down to the valley between her tits, I couldn’t help but notice that she tasted sweet. Literally. I vaguely recalled this from our past encounters, but it struck me as unique that she had such a sweet taste about her, not the somewhat salty taste that everyone else I’ve put my tongue on has exuded. Maybe she’s addicted to sugar and that comes through her skin, I don’t know. She certainly doesn’t have a body that would suggest an addiction to sweets, though.
After we’d spent several minutes lavishing some oral attention on a variety of each others’ body parts, Chase got up and walked over to the chest of drawers where she kept her collection of sex toys. She pulled out her strap-on and began putting it on. My heart began to race as I realized I was about to be penetrated in one orifice or another. She then walked into another room and came back with a bottle of what appeared to be Eros.
As I watched her pour the lube out into her hand and masturbate the cock to apply it, I could see in her eyes that she was looking forward to what she was about to do. She’d picked up the silicone lube rather than the Astroglide. I hoped that I knew what this meant. Silicone is the lube of choice for rough or prolonged anal penetration. It has much greater staying power than the water-based lubes, and her choice suggested to me that she was intent on providing me with a little bit of anal entertainment tonight. “I know how much you love being fucked in the ass, so I thought I’d have a little bit of fun with that, if you don’t mind. I’m not even going to touch your cunt.” All I could do was laugh. She wiped her hands off and slapped me on the side of my hip. “Turn over, bitch.”
I did as I was told, climbing up onto my hands and knees and presenting my ass to her. She slapped my ass hard with an open hand, and then bent down and slid her tongue slowly up the crack of my ass, stopping at the little starfish, teasing it with little probing thrusts. When she was finished, she moved up and positioned her cock at the entrance to my back passage and began pushing in. I relaxed and pushed out on my asshole to allow her to enter me a little easier.
The huge intruder made it through the first door just fine, but encountered some resistance at the second one. She moved back and forth, pushing a bit harder each time, and finally it burst through. I let out an audible “Oh, god” as the cock sank into my asshole. That little twinge of pain when it pushes through that second ring always flips a switch in me that causes little chill bumps to rise up on my skin, even to this day. I don’t know what it is about anal penetration that causes me to get such a rise, but I’ve never complained about it - it’s been that way since the first time I took a cock in my butt.
Chase began thrusting slowly, going a little deeper with each penetration, training my ass to take it’s length. After a couple of minutes of work, she could bury the entire eight inches into me. I slowly slid down to where I was resting on my stomach on a pillow I’d placed beneath me, with her on top of me - her hips not resting on mine but hovering above my ass, slowly, deliberately pushing the cock into me and withdrawing it in succession. She was going tremendously slow to heighten the intensity of that erotic pain that you feel when you have something that large penetrating you. She, too, enjoys anal sex and has that experience to know exactly what I am feeling when she does this, so I know she’s enjoying fucking me this way. I could hear myself grunting and moaning with each little push, each little thrust. I wish I had thought to record it - the audio of myself being fucked anally would be hot, I think.
She was straddling me, fucking my ass, as she bent down and started biting me on the neck and in that sensitive spot formed by the back ridge of my collarbone between my neck and the apex of my shoulder. I wanted to reach down and masturbate myself, but I was enjoying the little pre-orgasmic spasms I was having in my crotch at the moment, and didn’t want it to end. I’ve never had an unassisted orgasm from anal penetration, but it does occasionally come close, and this was one of those situations.
Having that long, thick cock pushing slowly, deeply into the cavern of my rectum, followed by the slow withdrawal, resulting in an empty, hollow feeling, only to be replaced again by the refilling of it - almost as if it were pushing the seismic precursors into my abdomen until they reached the point where they could be contained no longer. There are no words to describe that feeling, really. I literally felt as if my my soul were being penetrated; the waves were pulsing all the way up into the base of my skull. When it was combined with the adrenaline shots I was receiving from the hard bites she was inflicting on my neck and shoulders, my entire body was being wracked with tension - a tension that was begging to be released.
She splayed herself out on top of me, reaching out and interlacing her fingers with mine, and used her hips as a fulcrum to fuck my ass without moving the rest of her body. I used her weight on my hips to my advantage, moving with her undulations, pushing my cunt into the pillow, using it to masturbate myself. It wasn’t like using my fingers, rapidly teasing my clit. That would rapidly get me off. This was a slow, luxurious, languishing build up of orgasmic energy. It literally took several minutes to build up to the point of release, while Chase continued to slowly fuck me anally. As your PC muscles begin to contract in the midst of an orgasm, your asshole starts contract with them, and when it has something to grab a hold of - something that prevents it from closing against itself - the strain heightens the intensity of the parallel contractions. This heightens the orgasm even more, and is one reason why I have some of my most intense orgasms during anal penetration. Chase knows this, and is using it to her (my?) advantage.
The two sets of competing, yet contiguous sets of movements combined to give me one of the most intense orgasms I’ve ever had. I don’t know how loud I was, but I was so very grateful that we were not doing this in my apartment. Someone would’ve called 9-1-1 thinking I was dying, I am sure. My entire body felt like it was one huge wave, crashing over and over and over again against a rock, releasing a tremendous amount of energy with each splash.
I laid there for several moments, enjoying the post-orgasmic waves coursing through my body, and then reached up to wipe the tears from my eyes. There are times when I cum so hard that I tear up. I don’t know why that is - the release of pent up energy produces a sympathetic response in my tear ducts, apparently. It didn’t faze Chase, though. She reached up and wiped the tear trail from my nose, and then kissed me softly on the lips. As she did, she began moving her hips a bit more so that the cock buried in my ass would dislodge and she could pull out. If there were ever a more vacant feeling than what you experience when something that large is removed from your rectum, I don’t know what it would be. Your asshole continues to pulse in time with those little post-orgasmic contractions that are still going on in the floor of your pelvis as your orgasm winds down, and as you squeeze it shut, it magnifies those remaining hints of what has just transpired.
We spent the next three hours, wrapped in each other’s sex, rising and falling through several more waves of orgasmic ecstasy. At some point, I don’t recall what time it was, we fell asleep next to each other. I awoke shortly after 3AM and kissed Chase awake. “I need to get going, sweet face. Thank you for seeing me tonight.”
She looked up at me. “You are so much fun to fuck. You are just so in touch with your own inner sexual spirit. I didn’t think there was anyone else like that out there.” She squeezed my hand. “Feel free to come by any time.”
I went and used the bathroom, washed my face and then walked out into her foyer, put my clothes back on and drove home, where I took a quick shower and headed off to bed, my body still reeling from the orgasms I’d had just a short time earlier.
Interaction
August 13, 2008
If you’re not familiar with it, there’s a web site run by Susannah Bresslin, whereupon she places letters submitted anonymously from Johns, the customers of prostitutes. It’s called, appropriately enough, Letters from Johns. [There's a companion blog called Letters from Working Girls that publishes anonymous letters from prostitutes as well, by the way.]
A letter from July 29 caught my attention:
I met with a gorgeous older woman in her fifties. She was incredible. like nothing I ever encountered in streetwalker days. Gentle, cheerful, thoughtful. She seemed to truly enjoy having sex and talking with me. It was so much like a ‘girlfriend experience’ that it felt completely natural that I go down on her, which, again, she at least appeared to enjoy. She finished me off with a lovely blowjob. Laying around talking with her, I felt really comfortable. Walking up the block, I still could smell her scent on me. I realized that this had not only been the best sex I’d had with a prostitute, but some of the most memorable sex that I’ve had in my life, period. [Emphasis mine]
One of the neatest aspects of my job is the interaction I get with other people. I know everyone has the image of the prostitute-client interaction as a quick fuck-and-forget kind of exchange, and if truth be known, many are, especially those occurring on the street. This is also true for many escorts who try to work in as many clients in one night as they can. I can’t do that, for a couple of reasons.
First, I want the interaction with the client. I spend a good bit of time corresponding via e-mail then speaking with a potential client, and I won’t see someone who doesn’t exude at least some semblance of a personality (though there have been times where personality online didn’t translate into real life). To me sex as a prostitute without the interaction is objectifying (though I don’t subscribe to the notion of that being inherently negative - everyone who works is objectified to one extent or another. It’s just not my thing.). A lot of escorts tout themselves as providing a true “girlfriend experience,” and this personal interaction is a large part of what that is all about. That is one thing that sets the role of the escort apart from a “regular” prostitute, in fact.
Second, as I stated when I started down this path, my objective is to build a base of recurring clients, and one way to do this is to take some time to cultivate relationships with these people, to show them that I want and expect more than just the sex. Obviously that’s not going to happen in the absence of the interpersonal connectivity that must develop for two people to become truly comfortable with each other. Most of them have said they really enjoyed the sex (a good thing, of course), but many of them have also gone out of their way to compliment me on my personality and how I make them feel comfortable as a person, rather than making them feel as though they were just someone to take money from to allow them to fuck me. That’s an interesting, and perhaps surprising contrast, isn’t it? You hear stories all the time about the johns supposedly taking advantage of the women, whereas here I’ve encountered clients who have felt they were seen as just a source of money when they’ve used the services of (some) other escorts. They felt like they were being taken advantage of to a degree. Of all the irony.
Those are just a couple of the reasons why my appointment time/rate structure is configured the way it is, primarily to discourage the “fuck-and-forget” type of clients.
As a sensualist, prostitution gives me access to experiences which would be otherwise impossible for me. As a human, it temporarily provides for me a kind of companionship I spend long periods without. I’m only going to be alive once, so I really might as well.
I’ve said this time and time again, but those who criticize prostitution as always being “objectifying” just don’t understand the dynamic that goes on within a good number of these interactions. They have this image of the poor prostitute walking in, the john thrusting his cock into her until he gets off, and then him pushing her out the door. And that’s not the way it works in a great many cases. I know it pisses people like Melissa Farley off to even have to think about it like that, but it is the reality of the world many of us operate in.
I’ve only had a couple of handfuls of clients at this point, but I have yet for one of them to treat me with anything less than the amount of respect I thought I deserved or wanted. Now, I’m not naive; I recognize that much of this has to do with the class of people I deal with in my realm. But the reality is that, as I pointed out here, these off-street interactions represent the vast majority of prostitute-client interactions, and when you read what many other women in this field write about the work, by and large they tend to have the same kind of experience I’ve had to this point. Many of the clients genuinely seek companionship - some to the exclusion of sex, and so the whole exchange is built upon that, rather than just him getting off. Why they seek it is irrelevant from my individual business perspective (though it is interesting to study from a societal standpoint).
Asked how she feels about selling sex for money, Audrey doesn’t think that’s what she’s doing. “I’m not selling sex so much as I’m selling emotion, sexual entertainment, time and a human connection,” she says. [Source]
Quite honestly, I’ve been a bit surprised that the clients I’ve dealt with have generally been people who enjoy carrying on a conversation and can communicate with me to one degree or another. And even more so that these people want to do that, and not just have sex. The gentleman who wrote the letter I opened with seems to represent the type of men I’ve been with up to this point, so what he’s saying there doesn’t surprise me in the least. With the possible exception of one person, it’s been more than just all out sex. I’ve had some genuine good times and met some interesting and unique individuals, and had some incredible, deep conversations about a wide range of topics. It is quite surreal to be lying naked next to someone you’ve just fucked after just having met them in person for the first time, and be discussing the chances that the U.S. will end up with more medals than China at the Olympics.
It’s not all bells and whistles, though. I had a client this past week who was one of those types lacking some pretty basic social skills. I’ve read material from other escorts where they’ve talked about these kinds of folks - they use prostitutes as a way to obtain sex because they don’t have the socialization skills that are necessary to be able to go out and go through the machinations necessary to develop relationships with women to the point where things become physical. This gentleman was the epitome of that. No matter how hard I tried, or what subject I brought up, I just couldn’t get him to engage in much more than monosyllabic banter. I kind of feel sorry that anyone finds themselves in that position to begin with, but I am also glad that what I do is helpful to them. He wasn’t half bad in bed, either. He wasn’t the best I’ve ever had, but he could hold his own (not that he had to. Heh!)
At any rate, I feel good that what I do is helpful in some way to the people I see, regardless of whether it is purely physical or approaches the metaphysical. We all want to connect with someone, and though it may seem strange or odd to some people I suppose, I enjoy being able to have that connection with my clients. That is incredibly odd because I once had a regular “customer service” kind of job - selling cell phones (*puke*). And I hated it with a passion. I hated dealing with people in that way. So to actually enjoy the one-on-one interaction that is built largely around such an intimate construct as sex is just….well, weird.
Anni, Collared. Part II
August 11, 2008
This is Part II of THIS story.
——————————————————————
When I awoke, Anni was still sound asleep curled up next to me. The scent of her hair was intoxicating. Or, rather, arousing. I slid my hand along the curve of her hips and around to her ass. I gave her cheek a little squeeze and playfully bit her neck, and she began to rouse. I knew the proper way to wake this little whore up, so I slid my finger into the crack of her ass and found that little rosebud that I know holds a special place in her perception of her own sexuality. I knew I wouldn’t get in without any lube, but I swirled my finger at the entrance to her back door anyway, pushing in just enough to elicit a reaction from her. She sensed what I was doing and repositioned her legs to allow me easier access, the playful little cunt.
I pulled my hand away from her and reached over into my nightstand to pull out a bottle of lube. I opened the bottle and poured a bit on my fingers and slid them back into that little crevice, moving them slowly back down to Anni’s dark passage. When I reached her little asshole I continued to work my fingers in, first one, then two. When her anal muscles finally relaxed and accepted my digits, I began finger fucking her tight little sphincter. She moved her hand down to her cunt and began masturbating herself. I could feel her squeezing her PC muscles, in concert with the movements of her own fingers.
As her panting began to increase, I began biting her neck, first with little nibbles and then with copious amounts of teeth. I was spooned up behind her, and had my free arm wrapped around the upper half of her body, pulling her back against me, undulating my body with the rhythm of my penetrations to provide some sense of me actually fucking her. The sensations finally overtook her and she came. I can only imagine what it must feel like to a guy’s cock to have someone’s asshole contracting around it during an orgasm, because hers was squeezing the daylights out of the two fingers I’d buried in her butt.
As her muscular contractions began to subside, I pulled my fingers out of her ass and held them at her mouth. She looked at me for a minute and I gave her one of those, “You know what to do” looks. She opened her mouth and permitted my fingers to enter. I could feel her soft, delicate tongue dancing around them as she cleaned them for me. “That’s a good little whore. Get up and let’s get dressed for tonight.”
As I crawled out of bed, I reached back into the drawer and withdrew another little present for Anni; one that I knew she’d love - a newly acquired nJoy anal plug. “Put this in your ass. Right here, so I can watch.” I knew this request wouldn’t faze her, but I wanted to enjoy the visual of her face down, ass up pushing that silver plug into her butt. She did as she was told - it took a couple of minutes, but her ass finally took the plug. She let out a little grunt as the bulbous knob penetrated her asshole and her anal muscles collapsed around the stem to hold it in place. “You’ll wear that the rest of the evening.” I swatted her on the ass and told her to get up. I saw her head over to her suitcase.
“What are you doing?”
“I was going to get something to wear tonight.”
“I have your clothes for tonight, specially selected just for you.” I could tell by the look in her eyes that she was hesitant about seeing what I’d picked out for her. “Don’t worry, it’s hot, and you’ll look smokin in it.”
I went over to my closet and came out with her outfit for the evening. “Here’s a leather micro-mini skirt for you, and a leather sleeveless half-top. They match your collar, more or less, so you’ll be all coordinated and shit. And of course, skip the underwear, you won’t need any.” As I gauged her reaction, it occurred to me that she spent more time blushing than anyone I’d ever seen before. It’s a good thing the club is pretty dark.
I watched her put her clothes on and thought to myself, I am going to be the envy of Cockblock tonight. Who else is going to have a gorgeous slut following them around on a leash this evening? Oh, wait, this is Cockblock. I may not be the only one! Haha.
We got dressed, headed down to the car, and then it occurred to me that there’d be a better way to humiliate this little bitch. “I tell you what, let’s walk to the club, k? Come on.” I pulled her leash and we ambled our way out of the garage onto the road out that ran by the front of my apartment.
I’d left Anni’s hands unbound, no handcuffs, no rope or anything like that. Binding her hands would’ve cast her as a “victim” in the eyes of an untrained observer, providing her with some modicum of sympathy. Leaving her hands free told everyone that she was doing this willingly, which served to reinforce her image as a willing little slut. So here I was walking down Mission Street pulling my half dressed little whore on a leash. What a sight to behold. It took us a good half hour to walk to reach our destination.
As we walked down the sidewalk, amongst the masses of people, the majority of them didn’t even bother to take notice. I shouldn’t be surprised, though, since this is San Francisco. Still, there were the occasional murmurs (and shouts) of “What a slut,” “What a whore,” “Freak,” and various other epithets. At one point Anni screamed at someone for touching her. I stopped in the middle of the crowd and slapped her and told her to allow people to do whatever they wanted to her.
As we walked up to the club, Anni literally stopped everyone in their tracks; mouths dropped open. She was clearly going to be the Belle of the Ball tonight. I was so proud. I tugged her leash and led her inside.
Once inside I found Kari, one of the club owners. “Have you got everything set up?”
“Yep. The gloryhole is set up and ready to go when you are.”
Most everyone is familiar with the common gloryhole. Guys put their cocks through a hole in a bathroom wall and some random person on the other side sucks it. What we’ve arranged here is a female gloryhole. This is basically a construction consisting of a stretcher upon which someone can lie down, and a chair with a hole in the center of the seat can be placed such that it straddles the horizontal person’s face. The prone individual then services whoever sits on the chair. Such was to be Anni’s fate tonight.
“Okay. Thanks, Kari. It’ll probably be a couple of hours before we’re ready to auction her services off.”
I took my little whore’s leash and led her out to the dance floor, where we started dancing. We attracted quite a significant number of onlookers as I held her leash. Anni knew how to dance, and I think we looked pretty hot on the dance floor. We spent a good bit of our time making out and fending off other women trying to cut in. I guess some people just don’t realize how rude it is to try to cut in on a whore and her owner.
At one point, Anni indicated that she needed to go pee, so I pulled her to the bathroom. I know she thought I was going to let her just go in and take care of business, but that wasn’t the case. I opened the stall door and told her to sit down and take care of business. She just looked at me as if to ask to be allowed to shut the door. “Just sit down and pee. Everyone here’s seen another woman pee before. You’re not special.” So I stood there for a good five minutes while Anni mustered up the bladder courage to let go. With that, we returned to dancing.
At 10PM, I let Kari know that it was time to auction off the whore. So she arranged to clear the stage and have the DJ stop everything. I pulled Anni up onto the stage, and Kari handed me the microphone. “Ladies, I’d like to introduce you to Anni. Anni is here visiting me this week, and as you can see, she’s a submissive little whore. Literally, a whore. Tonight, we’ve set up a special arrangement where you can be serviced personally by my slut; orally, in fact. And this little cunt knows how to eat pussy. And ass for that matter. So you’ll definitely get your money’s worth.
What we’re going to do is auction the bitch off. The top three bidders will head to a room in the back, and Anni will personally bring each of you to an orgasm, while the others watch, either in the room or on the TVs you see around the room. What you do is write down how much you’re willing to pay to have the little slut service you and drop it in the box, and we’ll call out the top three in an hour. When you get in there you can treat her however you want - you can spit on her, piss on her, grind your crotch into her face, whatever you feel like doing.
“Can we see the goods?” someone from the crowd shouts.
“Take your clothes off, Anni, and show these people what they’re buying.” I hadn’t really been paying too much attention to her while I was addressing the audience, but when I turned to look at her, she had that “deer in the headlights” look. “Come on, whore, take it off. These people are waiting to see what they’re paying for.”
Anni reached around and undid her top and let it fall to the ground, exposing her perky, nipple-pierced 34Bs. And then she unzipped her skirt and let it fall as well.
“Turn around and show them your ass - spread your cheeks”
Again, Anni complied with my directions and turned to show the audience her butt plug. A loud murmur arose from the crowd.
“As you can see, she’s a wild little slut. You have an hour. Anni will be mounted in the rack over here. You’re all invited to come by and sample her, spank her, or whatever. Just don’t remove the plug from her ass, that’s all I ask.”
I took her over to a doubled over rack just off the stage to the right and strapped her naked little body to it. This had the effect of putting her face down, ass up with her ass facing the crowd. I told the onlookers to not be shy, come feel her or whatever they wanted to do to inspect the whore they’d be buying.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this to me, you fucking bitch.”
I slapped her across the face. “Don’t talk to me like that again, you fucking cunt. You always talk about how worthless you are, and I am going to show you that you are worth something. Perhaps not like you’d like to imagine, but that is of no consequence to me.”
A number of women approached the naked slut in the rack and began running their hands over her silky smooth body. One brave soul stuck two fingers in her mouth in anticipation of penetrating Anni’s cunt with them. “You won’t need that. She’s wet already.” The woman stuck her two fingers into Anni’s pussy and slowly finger fucked her for a couple of minutes. I could hear the squishing noises coming from her cunt as she was fucked. Another woman grabbed the little handle on Anni’s butt plug and jiggled it. Anni let out a little grunt as the tension increased on the anal intruder.
A few women came by and slapped Anni’s ass, some quite hard, in fact.
“She has a gorgeous body. Is she really 36?”
“Yes, ma’am, she is. She is a hot piece of ass to be sure.”
The woman turned around and licked and bit one of Anni’s butt cheeks.
“How does it feel to have your cunt and ass open for inspection, as if you were being sold as a sex slave in the old days, Anni? Aren’t you glad you came to visit me, sweety?”
As the hour wore on, more and more women came by to check out the whore. Several asked questions about her unique butt plug. I had Anni answer them. When the time was up, I unhooked Anni from the rack and we went back up onto the stage. “Anni is going to sort the cards and we should know within a few minutes who among you will be the lucky recipients of her services tonight.” The crowd went back to dancing while Anni sorted the cards and came out with the top three bidders.
“Looks like our three winners are Samantha S., Tonia R., and Jackie D. Collectively, the three of you bid over a thousand dollars. I’m sure you won’t be disappointed. Give us a few minutes to get set up and then meet us at the entrance to the VIP Room. The rest of you can either come in to the room itself to watch or you can watch the proceedings on the TVs spread out around the room.”
With that, I led Anni to the VIP Room on her leash.
———————————————————–
This concludes Anni’s story. Sadly, the inspiration I had to write this story line is no longer with me, so in all likelihood, I won’t be writing any subsequent parts. You’ll just have to let your imagination dictate what Anni does for her thousand dollars.
Alexa’s Update # 8
August 11, 2008
Not too much going on this past week.
My class schedule has been finalized. I won’t post the exact schedule online, but I have classes on Tuesdays and Wednesdays only - 9 semester hours of human sexuality courses. This works well for my scheduling because I can just block out Tuesday and Wednesday on my schedule and have the entire rest of the week pretty much open to see clients. That is one of the beauties of this kind of work - the scheduling is terribly flexible.
Along those lines, as you know, I’d planned to go home to Nikki this coming weekend. However, she’s been asked to attend a conference associated with work over that weekend, so I have re-booked my trip for Labor Day weekend, August 28th through September 2nd. I’ll get back early in the morning on Tuesday, which will give me time to come home, get some sleep and show up for class later that afternoon. That does mean I have to celebrate my birthday here, by myself. Sad, isn’t it? Maybe Kelsey will go out with me! Heh.
Besides seeing a couple of clients this week, I’ve spent most of my time watching the Olympics. Weren’t those opening ceremonies awesome? Since China makes what, 90% of the world’s fireworks, I guess we shouldn’t have been so surprised that they’d use that much of them for the show.
It’s been fun watching the swimmers (including Phelps) compete and win medals. I am personally watching the women’s gymnastics - I absolutely adore Shawn Johnson, and I hope she and the USA Women’s Gymnastics Team pull it together to take home the Gold. I also watch women’s soccer, women’s beach volleyball, and the equestrian competitions. Since my sleep schedule is still pretty much fluid, it is not unusual for me to be up in the middle of the night watching stuff that comes on at 2AM. 
I’ve had a request from a gentleman wanting to know if I’d travel to Chicago to meet him. He was referred to me by one of my previous clients (which I did confirm with the previous client). Apparently the guy told him I was a “freak” in bed, so he wants to…experience that! Haha! Anyway, I explained that I’d be happy to meet with him if he paid for the ticket, provided a hotel room (unless he wants a quickie and then I return to town), etc., etc., etc., and his screening went through okay. I am awaiting his reply.
As I mentioned several updates ago, I was approached by a guy representing a sex club who wanted me to do some fetish work with a group of men. I’d asked that they all be tested before I commit to working with them, and they’ve now agreed to that and gotten their tests done (you’d have thought they’d be testing themselves anyway, jeez!), so once I get some information from them about specifics, and we work out the financial details, that promises to be an interesting experience.
I’ve had to resort to going to a tanning bed to keep my tan. The cool air here just isn’t conducive to lying out on the beach. It gets close, but in order to keep my Florida tan, I’ll have to have a bit more exposure to some UV. And yes, I know it’s bad for me. But I do it in moderation.
Anyway, that’s it for this week. I have several other posts in various stages of draft, so keep an eye out for them.
Bisexuality Poem
August 10, 2008
As I mentioned here and here, a friend of mine wrote some really neat poems about sexuality. I had a penchant for “converting” straight girls when I was in high school and in my early college career (and will still do it if the opportunity arises). She wrote this poem specifically for me.
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Both of us wrapped up in bed
Sharing secrets never said
Temptation forms in between
Begin experimenting at eighteen
All started out, an innocent fling
Now it’s all become baffling
Female friends become much more
New territory to explore
Sit back, relax, enjoy, recline
Journey over the sexuality line
Falling into your embrace
Light kisses sweep my face
Seducing words in my ear
Loving with you seems so clear
Travel lips down my shoulder
Getting comfy, feeling bolder
Allow my hands to cup your breasts
And let me free with your caress
Let me feel you in my hands
And fingering the wetlands
Trail my stomach with your lips
Ending with your tongue between my hips
The tension gives, and legs shake
The silent moaning finally breaks
Tipping orgasm, time to give back
Helping you reach your own climax
Strap it on and thrust away
The rest just happened in a daze
This was written all for Alexa
And to all the bi-girls she’s makin’
Polls
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