Like any other job, being a prostitute can get monotonous pretty quickly. For every hour on the job spent freaking out over the fact that your client can’t get a guy’s dick up, there are innumerable appointments that consist of getting in, getting paid, getting the guy off, and then getting out the door. And while there was only one guy who outed me to my mother, there were countless hours spent trolling Craigslist and checking email, working out the whens and wheres of appointments.
While I assumed that my clients would want me to try out new positions and scenarios they were afraid to break out with their actual partners, I was surprised by the number of men who just wanted five minutes of missionary followed by cuddling. I specified in my Craigslist advertisement that I was fetish-friendly and open to at least considering anything besides scat (not the type of jazz singing, but the incorporation of shit into sex acts), bestiality, incest, and pedophilia. Even in the context of role-play I didn’t feel comfortable with any of those scenarios. I was pretty sure that I wouldn’t need to mention cannibalism, but beyond that I really did think I was open to anything.
But most of the scenarios that even the kinkier guys asked for were pretty straightforward. There was a lot of bondage, a lot of humiliation (you haven’t lived until you’ve seen a fat, hairy middle-aged man dressed up in lingerie and makeup telling you what a bad little girl he’s been), and a great deal of corporal punishment, both given and received. After about six months of prostitution, I had begun to consider searching for work at a dungeon just so I could get more interesting clients. I wanted to do scenarios with edge.
Of course, when that edge was proposed to me, I suddenly realized I had at least one very large hang-up that I was previously unaware of.