My job can be emotionally damaging and physically dangerous. I can’t ethically advise another woman do it.
Every so often, a woman will ask me if I can help her get into the sex industry. This is usually after hearing about how I made my entire month’s rent in a couple of hours of work. Or how I’m my own boss, so I get to set my own schedule and travel whenever I want.
Or perhaps she’s witnessed me dressed in my fancy clothing, my hair perfectly styled, my Louboutins clacking against the floor as I walk. She thinks how elegant I look. What a glamorous life I must live! She wants to live this life too!
Yes, sex work has helped me in many ways, but day in and out, the job can be emotionally draining. It can also be dangerous.
This is why, sadly, even as a sex worker, I don’t recommend other women get into my industry. I just can’t ethically advise that other women pursue my career choice, seeing the inherent drawbacks and dangers to having this occupation.
Sex work can be emotionally damaging.
When you do sex work — any type of sex work — the job can eat away at you emotionally. In my case, men are constantly trying to rip me off.
An example is trying to pay for a virtual session with fake gift cards. Another example is during a cam session that’s initiated through a phone call (which is how I bill for the session), I agree to turn on my camera as well. Because the camera also has a microphone, I speak to my client that way, which gives him the chance to hang up the phone. In other words, how he was paying me.
Men will go out of their way to trick sex workers into giving them free virtual sessions. Why? Because they view us as just some dumb whore. We don’t deserve respect. Our job is “easy.” We certainly don’t deserve to get paid the rates we charge.
This might not sound like much to you, but couple it with the way that men can be really nasty in general when you’re trying to do your job. The aggression may be subtle. Take a recent example. The other night, I wasn’t available for a phone call so the client demanded I send him a photo of my butt. No please, no offer to send any money to pay for this photo. Just a demand to see my body because he should be able to see it for free.
The aggression can be much more palpable though. Take how I was sexting with a man for pay recently. At first, he was intent on me humiliating him. Then he turned on me. He called me a fat bitch who was just doing this job because I didn’t have a father. None of this is true. But if it were, it would have been triggering.
Besides, the upsetting thing was he wanted to hurt me. He could use me to get off on or throw his rage at, depending on his mood.
Such treatment by men comes with the territory. If you don’t have the body a guy likes, he’ll insult you. Yes, you can do your best to vet out these men. But sometimes, they still creep into your phone-sex line, onto your Twitter, into your email. It’s hard to escape them.
Unfortunately, when you’re escorting, you’re in danger of having such experiences in real life. A man showed up once for a session with me. I opened the door, he took one look at me, and he turned around and left. He said I wasn’t his type. My ass wasn’t “nice” enough for him.
Experiences like this can feel emotionally degrading. Even if a guy seems “normal” when booking a session, when we get into a room alone together, I realize I hate being with him.
I met up with a man once and felt like the intent of the sex we had was to humiliate me. He wanted me to feel uncomfortable by jamming his fingers into my butt and stretching my anus wide. I let him penetrate my bottom because that was what we had agreed on. But the way he did it was aggressive. Afterward, he demanded I put his unwashed penis into my mouth. He became angry when I said no. I left the meeting feeling disgusted — both in him and in myself.
I have better boundaries now, but still, the damage was done. For this reason, I simply can’t ethically advise women get into the sex industry knowing the occupational hazards of this job.
The sex industry can be dangerous.
Then there’s the fact that this job is physically dangerous. I’m not going to lie to you. No matter how much you vet, there’s always a chance you’re going to find yourself alone in a room with an ax murderer.
It’s simply difficult to always make sure that a man is psychologically stable, even if you have all his information. And if you don’t, you’re at even more of a risk of harm.
I agreed to do a session with a new client once and I ended up alone with a schizophrenic. He had come for a session as a submissive, but halfway into our session, he started asking if I was filming him. He thought that I had shot video footage of him and was going to make a movie about him.
He became very agitated. He was a big guy. It was very scary trying to calm down someone who was clearly psychologically compromised.
Luckily, I succeeded in getting him out of my dungeon without getting hurt. But the experience shook me.
Even if I get a reference from another provider, I have to make sure the reference is real. I was texting with another provider once about a new client who wanted to meet with me. I suddenly realized that I was actually texting with the client, only on another number.
I knew this because the “provider” kept telling me how hot the client was, how great the sex was with him. I’m sorry but providers just don’t talk that way to one another.
Luckily, I realized the guy was scamming me, but what about someone new to the job? I just can’t have that on my conscience.
Another time I was at a dungeon alone with another domme when she got in a fight with a client. They had already started the session and suddenly he wanted to stop it. More, he wanted his money back.
She really blew up at him and started insulting him. He insulted her back and she spat in his face. He responded by kicking her in the chest — hard. He kicked her so hard he knocked her to the floor. It was terrifying.
I yelled at him that we were going to call the police but I knew that wasn’t true. We couldn’t call the police. The dungeon wasn’t licensed. Other women who worked at the dungeon were selling full-service sex services. No, we were not going to call the police.
Luckily, the guy didn’t have a gun, but bad things like this are bound to happen sometimes — especially for women who are newbies in this business. For this reason, I simply can’t recommend this job to other women. I can’t recommend they get into this business, knowing all the dangers.
Sex work is good for some, but not for every woman.
My purpose in writing about this subject is not to shame other sex workers who do like their jobs. A lot of women make lifelong careers out of sex work. They’re very happy with this choice.
They have firm boundaries in place that keep them safe. Even if they’ve had a few bad experiences here and there, they’re able to accept that the advantages of doing sex work far outweigh the disadvantages.
What I write here is my opinion. I just don’t feel right recommending other women work in this industry when the emotional and physical risks are so high.
If a woman wants to learn how to do my job, she’ll have to find a different mentor. Even as a sex worker, I won’t help another woman break into the sex industry.