Forgive me if I am not a manipulative person deep inside.
OK. So I was not the most brilliant but I made occasional miracles happen in the science field. Whatever I set my mind to, I learned to find a way to accomplish it. One day I woke up and found a way to get paid for doing something that I have been doing since I was 10 years old. Sex.
Sex sells. Women have been selling their bodies since the beginning of his/herstory began. The only difference is that I actually enjoyed it. Today was the first day that I did not enjoy being an escort, and for the rest of the day I will find ways to ease the memory: an aspirin, 2 beers, leafy green vegetables in the sun by the ocean, a good read of a book, and then a nap. I am prescribing myself a hefty dose of lesbian erotic fiction, a dip in the ocean and a stroll along the beach. It is not real life here. It is just elaborate mind fucking. Forgive me if I am not a manipulative person deep inside. I do not even know how to manipulate well. I refuse to lash back. I am just a just a squirrel trying to get her nuts in a row for the week. This week I lost two. Most squirrels think they can get them back. I am not so sure.
I first stated writing in this profession as a means of venting my feelings since I really had no one to talk to about what I was going through. I have been brutally honest ultimately much to my detriment. I thought people would be more excited to meet me because I was different because I was pulling the wool off the eyes of the sheep on the boards by exposing the inner working of this biz in my blog. I actually killed my business. All of my regulars, and there were not many, have seemingly crawled as far away as they could. New clients could not understand why I was being so paranoid when I screened them more than the other girls do. The shit I have had to go through would make most people’s skin crawl. (The tirade from this morning is kindergarten to the stuff I have endured here.) Meanwhile my reviews on the erotic forums continued to escalate and my fame grew. I never really knew that I was getting famous. Other people told me. Oh! You are Netmichelle? Really? Wow. What a pleasure it is to meet you. Some new clients were so nervous to meet me I could hardly get them into the hotel room. Others would tremble and their hands would get sweaty. Other escorts give me a thorough scrutiny, thinking how does she do it? Where did she come from? Can I be her friend?
I did kind of pop out of nowhere, now that I think back on this past year, it has been a bit of a whirlwind. One day I saw someone who quickly posted a review of me on an erotic forum, and then my phone would not stop ringing. It was a flurry of days and weeks and then suddenly it was done. I had a few reviews and then, I wasn’t the new chick on the block. I was just one of the many trying to stick her neck out and get noticed in the chicken coop. Over time I started reading the forums, then responding, adding insight and learning a lot about my self and my sexuality. Reading the erotic forums was a lot like the first time I ever got onto the internet. I was glued to the screen for hours, up all night and only taking the necessary breaks. I soaked it up like a sponge.
People tell me to be stronger. To fight back and be brave. Why should I be the heroine? I have nothing much to gain and everything to lose: my self worth, my reputation, my strength.
Sex sells. Women have been selling their bodies since the beginning of his/herstory began. The only difference is that I actually enjoyed it. Today was the first day that I did not enjoy being an escort, and for the rest of the day I will find ways to ease the memory: an aspirin, 2 beers, leafy green vegetables in the sun by the ocean, a good read of a book, and then a nap. I am prescribing myself a hefty dose of lesbian erotic fiction, a dip in the ocean and a stroll along the beach. It is not real life here. It is just elaborate mind fucking. Forgive me if I am not a manipulative person deep inside. I do not even know how to manipulate well. I refuse to lash back. I am just a just a squirrel trying to get her nuts in a row for the week. This week I lost two. Most squirrels think they can get them back. I am not so sure.
I first stated writing in this profession as a means of venting my feelings since I really had no one to talk to about what I was going through. I have been brutally honest ultimately much to my detriment. I thought people would be more excited to meet me because I was different because I was pulling the wool off the eyes of the sheep on the boards by exposing the inner working of this biz in my blog. I actually killed my business. All of my regulars, and there were not many, have seemingly crawled as far away as they could. New clients could not understand why I was being so paranoid when I screened them more than the other girls do. The shit I have had to go through would make most people’s skin crawl. (The tirade from this morning is kindergarten to the stuff I have endured here.) Meanwhile my reviews on the erotic forums continued to escalate and my fame grew. I never really knew that I was getting famous. Other people told me. Oh! You are Netmichelle? Really? Wow. What a pleasure it is to meet you. Some new clients were so nervous to meet me I could hardly get them into the hotel room. Others would tremble and their hands would get sweaty. Other escorts give me a thorough scrutiny, thinking how does she do it? Where did she come from? Can I be her friend?
I did kind of pop out of nowhere, now that I think back on this past year, it has been a bit of a whirlwind. One day I saw someone who quickly posted a review of me on an erotic forum, and then my phone would not stop ringing. It was a flurry of days and weeks and then suddenly it was done. I had a few reviews and then, I wasn’t the new chick on the block. I was just one of the many trying to stick her neck out and get noticed in the chicken coop. Over time I started reading the forums, then responding, adding insight and learning a lot about my self and my sexuality. Reading the erotic forums was a lot like the first time I ever got onto the internet. I was glued to the screen for hours, up all night and only taking the necessary breaks. I soaked it up like a sponge.
People tell me to be stronger. To fight back and be brave. Why should I be the heroine? I have nothing much to gain and everything to lose: my self worth, my reputation, my strength.
3 Comments:
VonRyan is one "regular" who is here for you.
Anytime you need to have a good laugh, a shoulder to cry on,shoot the shit,check out the big apple sites, boink(any or all of the aforementioned),or just wing it... give me a shout...The Chelsea,Jekyl and Hydes, and some black and tans await your erotic,enchanting,gorgeous,intelligent and lusty presence.
Cheers!
Thanks babe. I may take you up on that.
Michelle,
A lot to say: long post.
Yes, the friends you've made in your year's endeavor (there are a few of us) wish you strength. Would you rather that we wish you weakness? How friendly could that possibly be? Wishing you weakness would be just an insult, wouldn't it?
If I wish you strength, it's not to support some illusion I had of you, or some cause that I had in mind. I wish you strength for your sake, and the sake of anybody you choose to love, any cause you choose to make your own.
And not strength in continuing your path if it isn't the best for you. Obviously, by the end of your whirlwind year, you had accumulated stresses. Maybe you weren't meant to continue your incredible rise through the business, but needed a change. Why not? You've proved a lot already to all of us.
We met twice during that time, one month apart. In hindsight, I might have noted a change between the two times. I think Twin Cities, whatever terrible thing happened there, occured between those. I could see stress around your eyes in that second session, and you were less talkative about yourself. There was less of the pornstar's craving for attention, and yes, I could sense some exhaustion. Not a ruinous amount of any of this, mind you, but it was all there. I felt the limits of the session and the role I was in. There was so little time. And, of course, I was your client.
You do state the truth when you say you are not a manipulative person deep inside. Since you've noted this, I'll add that you seem to have misunderstood the nature of your popularity and how you created it. You said in your opening installment, that you were good at marketing yourself to strangers. You've understated this. Hard as it is for me to believe now, it looked like you stumbled upon the right formula for getting to the top of the sex business, and didn't know you had it. I can tell you how you did it, and the effect it had on me and most men and women even.
You may have always had sex, but what created your sky-rocket surge was something else: seduction. It was mass seduction, in fact. In hindsight, you would have been uncomfortable with if you knew that's what your were doing, I think. Seduction is manipulative, but it's not necessarily bad, or exploitive.
For myself, I might have never seen that you weren't a manipulative person at heart, but I was at least confident that you weren't capricious about it. After our first session, I pretty much admitted to you that you had me seduced, and I was quite enjoying it. You never answered, but I now believe you must have thought: "What is he talking about?" but I believe what I admitted to you was true of a lot of clients and would be clients. (Unfortunately, it's probably true of you stalkers, too. Who have been seduced and hate you for it.)
The key to seduction: curiosity. I will always say: Curiosity and Desire are twin sisters. You inflamed both of those in your posts on TER and your marketing. This included little things, so much so, that I thought it had to be a deliberate strategy. The fact that your reviews mentioned this extraordinary, beautiful tattoo, but your original website **didn't show it**, made me think we were all in the hands of a master sex siren. Also , that your website only had one color picture, and the rest were in shadowed black and white and very film noir, with your hair brunette instead of bleached. This all clouded the mind of potential clients as to what they were going to see. Even in the desires that you created with the passions that you confessed: for example, your citations of the spontaneous sex you had in your life. That creates both desire and curiosity. A guy wonders what creates this depth of desire in a woman, and the brazeness to admit it. Your humor, your compassion, you revealed just enough to keep us curious, to keep us guessing, usually wrong, because it was never enough to solve the mystery, or rather, make us feel like we solved it.
A stripper from the 1920s is purported to have said about taking it all off: "Once they've seen it all, they've got no reason to stay." She was just partially right. A good stripper or a good courtesan on her game can keep clients in their seats or in her bed long after they've seen everything there physically is to see. This applies to a lot of things. If you're writing fiction, for instance, you have to reveal something about your characters, enough to keep your readers curious. However, if you show too much, get to the central drives of your character, the readers curiosity will be sated, and they'll put the book down. Of course, in the multi-part series of books, this goes out the window, and the readers have to be satisfied not with finding out the core drives of the characters, but instead be hooked by the mystery of the plots, where those drives are applied to other things.
We may have guessed wrong about you, but the point is, we were expending the mental energy at guessing, and going further about it with fantasy. There were a lot of your posts that fueled both curiosity and desire in potential clients. Your compassion about it did something else, it also made us feel good about it all. Suddenly, yes, maybe we should find out if we like anal, or plastic-wrapped sex. Never thought about it, but maybe. Oh! So corsetted sex is enjoyable for the her too! Why am I feeling guilty about it? You prompted guys who would have never tried some things to try them, just for curiosity's sake. You probably enticed the edgier of us to move over the edge...
Then you posted your blog, and it broke the spell you had unknowingly cast. You know it did by the clientele you lost. For me, it was hard to read initially and hard to adjust myself to the reality it gave. So seduction was over. I found at the end of the adjustment that you were still attractive to me, though I'm no longer really seduced. It's not a total loss for you. You've shown that you could do it quite well. You are not a manipulative person at heart as you say, and you are definitely not mean-hearted.
(I suggest that one person you may study might be Mae West: who is purported to have lost her virginity at 8, and was sexually active by 11. Apparently a hooker, who glorified hookers in show business. It's common knowledge where her career took her.)
Reluctantly, I will write for most your clients: besides breaking the seduction, your blog presented all of us with a question as well. Are we part of the problem? I realize that clients can be. But when you say things like: "I will never forgive what the men in my life had done to me, but neither will I forget. It is a two way street." What does this mean? Does it refer to average client? It's a little ambiguous, because I don't actually know what you mean by "...in my life." I realize I put you between a rock and a hard place by asking, but paying for a share of your resentment is not in the bargain. I can buy that at SW prices.
For me, paying for sex is really the only way I choose to have it. I have my own trauma, my own bad childhood. My attempts at relationships were all abject failures. Like you, I am normally too comfortable being alone. My moral system regarding sex is different from the society at large. It's bad enough that this would, if it were known, put me largely on the same status as a whore. I'm not a whore-monger, which is literally a pimp, but I am a whore lover. It's made worse if the woman I'm most attracted to resent me for it.
I am your client, and as it turns out, your die hard fan. If it weren't for geography, and my lousy job, I would be a regular. I still wish you strength. And health. And pleasure. I hope that you find all of those in your career.
/Zin
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