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Where Are All The Johns?

1830 hours

It’s been a very quiet week. So far, I did a quickie yesterday and one today. I just had booking confirm for a blowjob in about forty five minutes, he threw me off by asking if his wife could watch. I’m a little intimidated so I required an extra $20 to accommodate the voyeurism. I must rush off and give the house a quick once over before they get here, then I’ll finish this post after the job. I think there’s a hell of a lot more than an hour’s worth of writing in this post. Back soon…

1930 hours

Well, that couldn’t have gone better for the blog. They haven’t texted for the street number yet, I would say it’s another dud booking. What the hell is going on for me? It seriously feels as though I have a universal energy block regarding generating cash at the moment. It’s been harder and harder to land bookings over the last few weeks. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong? I’ve tried changing up my advert, using different advertising spaces, with limited and extremely short term success, and now I’ve gone back to my ad that worked the best for a long time. Still nothing. One of my best regulars has disappeared into the mists of my past, and even though I have probably about ten loyal clients who will keep coming to see me as long I have my number active, due to the fact they are intermittent and far from weekly each, I’m finding that I’m having some very broke stretches in between work.

It’s the kid’s birthday next week, and I have literally nothing sorted for it yet. I paid for her to get her nose pierced (blech), but she’s already had it done, so there’s nothing to make her feel special, just from me, for the actual day. I’m sweating a little over it, as it’s far from my only bill now the car has been written off and I’ve done stupid things like take out a loan in my name to help a friend out who was in “trouble”. That’s the kind of shit I do for my mates, I’m such a muppet!

Dammit, i really needed this booking as I’ve spent all the aforementioned earned cash on house maintenance things and have literally a dollar to my name right now. It feels very uncomfortable!

I want to go to sleep and not wake up until a genuine client makes an immediate booking and is due to arrive.

2030 hours

Well, what do you know? That couple just left! Sooooo glad to have a little cash in my wallet, I can breathe again. I think I will just update the blog as things happen, maybe it will give me a better, more realistic idea of how much money I earn as I think perhaps my reality is distorted by the eternal feeling of “lack” that resides within me. I really need to clear it as it’s affected and influenced my life for as long as I remember, and someone like me, with the intelligence level and education I have, should be exuding excess in financial wealth at this stage of my life.

Days later…

I did another couple of jobs today, thank the General Overall Director, I was beginning to feel extremely stressed about the birthday this week and I could see no way of getting enough money together to make her day.

I’m still struggling to understand what’s happened to my market, the only thing I can put it down to, is that I just went through a quiet patch, and I’m on my way back up? Mysterious.

A week later again…

Well, it turns out that my market is just fine, I’m doing very nicely again now I’m advertising in the paper regularly, all I can put it down to is “market fluctuation” haha. I do find it interesting that things seem to get slow with my income right as something important financially occurs. Psychosomatic symptoms? Wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest. Goethe said “As soon as you trust yourself, you will know how to live.” Maybe I fall down in the self trust department? Something to think about, as I’m a firm believer in the power of the mind regarding manifestation in one’s life.

I wonder how many others this principle affects? I hope you’re free from the curse of lack of self trust.

Yours,

Missy X

Still Here, Oh Dear…

Well, it’s certainly been a while since I last posted. Looking back over my previous posts, I was actually going quite well apart from being stuck up and unimpressed with male ego driven idiocy.

After my last post, I went completely off the rails. It was as though revealing the fact I have a partner whom I really love tripped me out. I got pissed off with being told by him how to spend my money, when I earn it without his assistance and he gets looked after with it, plus the whole game was getting to me. I rediscovered the drugs and I’ve had some pretty f**ked up moments the last six months.

Thankfully, I have also had some revelations, and in the last month or so, I’ve knocked the out of control behaviour on the head. I have always had a terrible habit of picking my face and skin when I’ve been on meth, to the extent of being regularly told to wear mittens so I stop ripping at my skin. (I discovered my daughter’s socks over my hands are fantastic for that purpose, and it really works to stop me scratching and gouging my skin off my body.)

During the most out of control part, I was with a client who although he had seen a lot during his life, had never been a drug addict or spent much time around meth users. I was lying on his couch, ripping the skin off my legs and arms, making the existing sores bleed. He asked me if I was “self-harming” and was concerned that he’d upset me in some way inducing my actions. I laughed and brushed it away, “Nooooo, no this is a typical methhead habit, lots of users do it, not always this badly, but it’s an unconscious, ingrained action,” but his words stuck, and a day or two later, I was driving through a McDonald’s drivethru getting dinner, and I broke down totally. I WAS self-harming. That’s EXACTLY what it was I’ve been doing to myself for the fifteen years or so I’ve indulged in meth. Holy shit, what a revelation!

I start doing it when I get upset or angry, and once I’ve broken the skin, it doesn’t heal until I get sleep. If I’m awake for a week, that can lead to extensive damage with no opportunity to repair, plus it takes weeks for that level of damage to heal completely.

I finally have my face back to “pretty”, but I have scars all over my arms, legs and butt cheeks from the scratching I’ve done this time around. Plus, I got a skin infection that required three lots of antibiotics to kill, so that made me feel like a total leper. I was going through a bottle of foundation a day, just to cover the marks up.

However, without that man’s innocent observation, I don’t know when I would have reached a level of discipline over my actions to reflect the truth of the self love I’ve spent so many years of my life searching for and have found. I knew what I was doing was messed up, but couldn’t find the psychological hold I needed to stop myself. I’m so grateful to have found it, as it’s transformed my perception of my actions and enabled me to create new habits that are nurturing instead of harming.

But the messy state I got into before that insight? Well, I was doing all sorts of crazy shit. I was doing jobs for whatever money they had to offer, just because I wanted to get laid due to being so high. I was f**king guys for free, some with no condom (after I’d seen what they had in their pants and if it was desirable to me), basically putting all my pompous, stuckup, snotty statements from my previous posts to shame, making them all lies. Like, I really got f**ked up in the head. All because I couldn’t deal with working when I have someone I love.

The result of being so high for so many months?

I stopped writing to my man, over a year of continuous letters just stone cold stopped. I can’t remember the last letter I wrote him, apart from shitty emails when he’s upset me and won’t listen. I lost my dignity by doing all the crazy, totally unsafe, unhygienic and very unprofessional things I was doing. I almost destroyed our relationship completely, as well as nearly losing my mind.

It was about six weeks ago I finally confessed to him what I’d been doing, and my confession dissipated the need to be crazy and we have started coming up with solutions. The main problem was I could no longer do the job, drug free and feel okay about it. I needed him to rescue me with one of his many plans he has dangled under my nose since the beginning of last year, and I had become extremely resentful that he would rather sit back and let me look after him by earning my money in this way instead of coming through for me.

Oh, I forgot to mention, he’s in jail, hence he is unable to financially support me in a legitimate way, and needs to be supported himself. I’ve never been in such a weird and unsavoury relationship before, however, the whole situation has been weird from the get go.

Nothing about him is anything I would ever go for. He’s a neanderthal, beefed up gym bunny, all my life I’ve taken the piss out of men who feel the need to increase their body mass excessively at the gym. He’s also told me he’s a gang member, if I had known that before we fell for each other, I would never have had anything to do with him. He’s in prison, why the HELL would I put myself and my daughter into a position of being around a criminal?

Well, I met him before he went in for this lag, he was with this crazy woman I used to know, and he treated her like a queen. When I met him, I didn’t see him as the loser I’ve just described. He ended up getting locked up again, and about five months after that, we started our correspondence. The connection was instant. He’s an unusual character, he has a lot of talents and was enjoying the criminal life he led, which kept getting him locked up. However, now we’re together, he just wants to look after our family and keep his nose clean so he never has to be away from us again, and I believe him.

We’ve got every naysayer under the sun thinking it’s doomed, and if either of us were “typical” individuals, I would agree with the general consensus. However, both of us are exceptional individuals, I have found my other half, he loves me with all my faults as well as the good bits. For myself, I’ve never been in love with someone I’ve never slept with before, and the fact we’re still going strong after all this time and all the difficulties we’ve experienced says a lot to me about the strength of our future together. The fact that I LOVE him so much without having had sex with him tells me, we’ve got something very special.

So, going back to work when this is how I felt about someone was totally incongruous, I was suffering and needed reprieve. I kept telling him, but he wasn’t hearing me. It took me nearly losing my mind for him to realise how legitimate my distress was.

Unfortunately, because he’s in jail, I can’t make him do anything, and I can’t get proof that everything he’s told me about himself is for real, I have to wait until he gets out to discover how full of shit about himself he is. So, he’s still stonewalling with assistance, justifying it with all sorts of excuses. The main one has always been that he was scared he would lose me to the drugs if he hooked me up with a bulk supply to get rid of. He wasn’t paying attention, he was losing me to the drugs I was paying top dollar for. He got the message. Now his excuses are related to how to organise things.

In the meantime, I’ve completely lost interest and belief in being rescued by him. Plus, at the end of August, a girl went through a red light and wrote off my car, so I no longer have the car payments that were making my budget impossible to live on. The universe provided a solution, and the best part is… I no longer NEED to do this job to survive. I’ve even gotten to the point of recognising, I’m ready to search for wages work again.

Therefore, my time doing this is rapidly coming to an end. I just want to get my teeth sorted as the last six months haven’t done them any favours, they are so sore!

Overall, it’s been an eventful year of self growth and awareness. I’m working on my discipline and being consistent, and I’m reading a book called “The Happiness Project” at the moment, which although lightweight and fluffy, is helping me direct my focus into what’s important to me right now, and learning what I want for myself realistically. That’s new for me, as how I’ve viewed myself my entire life was idealistically, and as a result, never achieved anything that I consider significant as I was going after what I thought I wanted, and I’ve never really acknowledged that so many of my “dreams for my future” were really never going to happen as they were not embracing who I am, they were based on who I wanted to be or told myself I was.

However, I still have a few weeks of this work left to do, and that time will be used to totally reassess my goals careerwise, and put my considered decisions into action.

Writing is definitely part of my future, hence my choice to get myself back here. Consistancy is key. If I don’t do it every day, I won’t get all the books in my head out, and I want the headspace free for bigger and better things.

Maybe then, all those dreams I have written off as unachievable due to being conjured up by a person deluded about themselves, might actually have a chance of coming true, as I always had some grand, amazing dreams for my future.

I can’t wait to see it unfold from now.

I’m empty again, so it must be time to stop writing. Thanks for reading.

Missy X

Off On A Tangent

I started to digress a bit during my last post, there’s so much to say, all interconnected, maybe I’ll pull that bit regarding my thoughts on today’s society out and create a whole new blog post on it. It’s integral to the essence of what I’m wanting to convey here and deserves it’s own study.

I haven’t advertised for a couple of weeks, I had enough money and regulars contacting me I was able to get by without, however the wallet is looking a little dry this week, so I put an ad in for tomorrow.

I’ve not been well the last day or so, sick to my stomach and hurling, so I turned down the booking I had today at 4pm, and other requests I received. Hurling on the client is not a good look.

THEN I got a call about 7.30pm from a guy I’ve seen before, and he’s annoying too. Married, demanding with expectations, no perfume or glitter (a legitimate request always respected), being specific about what he wants from me, and is a fullblown cheapskate. He LOOOOOVES my body, like, won’t shut up about it during the act, but doesn’t want to pay for my time.

When I looked at the caller ID, I rolled my eyes but felt well enough to work and I don’t believe in turning work down (unless there’s a direct conflict of my interests by accepting the job, ie, they want things I don’t provide or they are not prepared to pay for), so I answered the call.

After attempting to haggle with me over price for the service he wanted, he then attempted to haggle over the amount of TIME he got to spend with me. Dude, for $50, what the f**k do you expect?

I charge $40 for a blowjob, they get to sit in a big comfy armchair in my room on a soft, clean towel, I usually take my top off and I kneel in front of them, do the deed and send them out the door ten minutes later at the most with their knees still weak. In fact, that’s one of my sales pitches lol.

My next cheapest rate is my $60 quickie special. That’s where I use my awesome sales pitch. When I get asked what that entails, I usually say that “you get sucked and f**ked, and sent out the door with your legs still wobbling”. If they’re genuine, then nine times out of ten that cracks them right up and they book immediately. I will give them up to twenty minutes of my time for that $60 if they take that long, but they’re usually gone in ten, smiling and happy.

So, this cheapskate wants a “handjob” because he doesn’t like condoms (lol) and to touch and mouth me all over. Now for me, that’s the same as a full sex job workwise. I’m still putting in the same amount of effort, energy and acting skills as doing full sex. I still have to put up with invasive fingers that have pretty much no talent and I still have to touch their body. We established last time I would do it for $50, which I wasn’t happy about, but allowed by telling myself it wasn’t “full sex” and I’m getting more than I would for a handjob or blowjob, so it’s all good. But he’s hard work, likes to talk dirty, which turns me cold unless I’m into it (never now I’m not on drugs) and kept going on about how much time we’d been going for, which made it streeeeeeetttccccchhhh for me, of course.

After fifteen minutes, I finally managed to get him to blow, (so I thought, there was an explosion of come after all), but my back had given out. I was holding myself at an awkward angle over him so I could do the handjob, wanted him gone. Especially as he’d tried to start touching me before he’d paid, reminding me of why I didn’t like him the first time (yuck, over and out of my house, Buddy).

Then my phone starts going nuts as well, both my landline and my mobile, real mood killer (must remember to take it off the hook lol), so by then, I was over it and chucked him some wipes and tissues, started getting dressed while he tried to stretch it out even more, lying back and talking shit to me.

Then he tells me that he didn’t orgasm, and asks if under those circumstances, do I give the money back?

WHAT. THE ACTUAL. F**K??!!

Needless to say, he won’t be coming back, (especially since he once turned up here without a booking, what an idiot,) too stressful for the $50. To be fair, I’m already pretty over making money this way. It was necessary when I first went back to the profession, but surely I can find something more stable now the new year is well in? F**k this shit, seriously.

I said to him, “well, you still got to touch me, and spend time with me, and I’m thinking of quitting again and that shit is part of the reason why.”

He apologised profusely and kissed my arse, telling me of course I do a good job and deserve to be paid (or some shit like that, I actually stopped listening) then I shunted him out the door.

Thank you Universe, I appreciate all the financial assistance sent my way, I truly do.

I don’t mean to be ungrateful, really I don’t, and I shouldn’t rag on my clients, since without them, I wouldn’t have a job, but holy crapola!!!!

I never used to be this jaded about men. I used to believe that if a guy said he loves you when he’s in your bed, he meant it. I used to believe in monogamy. I used to believe in fairy tales, right up until about seven or eight years ago.

Yep, I’m really glad I woke up, because men can no longer hurt me like that. It was actually freeing because I used to be so insecure and needy, that I’d “fall in love” with every f**k I had, then get messed in the head when it turned out it was just a f**k. Once I learned that “bedroom talk” is called that for a reason, life got a whole lot less dramatic and unhappy for me, it was great.

However, it seems to have gone further than that now. So. Freaking. Jaded.

Maybe that’s because now I have a man that’s the love of my life, I can’t stand having men I don’t love touching me? Makes sense to me.

But, that’s a story for another time.

Ciao for now.

Missy X

Why Do Men Always Ask For No Condom?

It’s one of my pet hates.

I’m not really sure why on earth they think it’s appropriate, on so many levels it’s really not.

When I’m asked what my service entails, I always say it includes sex, oral both ways (meaning giving and receiving), and kissing and massage if they wish, I don’t do anal and I DO use condoms for everything. After that, I sum up with the comment, “I’m pretty sure that’s everything I usually get asked for”, to ensure I’ve been clear and they know they heard me correctly and I mean what I say.

You can almost always tell from their response if they’re condom friendly, as in, a respectful human being who accepts that just like any job, PPE is required. All jobs involving health and safety have protective wear, no different to mine. After all, a job is what it is, despite the fact that some would prefer to pretend that’s not the case.

For someone who’s worked their life away doing 40 hour minimum weeks, probably driving their body into the ground, just to reach an adequate level of income required to achieve survival for another week of life to be lived making money to survive the next week after that, it must be uncomfortable to encounter an individual like myself who makes the same amount of money in an hour of work that they might make in a day if they’re doing huge hours or have an awesome hourly payrate. That level of income is usually reserved for entrepreneurs and politicians, not some lowly woman who merely lays on her back (because you know she wouldn’t be doing it if she didn’t love it, the dirty slut), after all.

I know it pisses women off, I frequently encounter vibrational anger and jealousy, as though I’m a threat. Don’t get me wrong, by 35 I had long accepted I would be given filthy looks by every female I pass in public for as long as I have the rack I do, due to the size of my tits (46″ and I’m less than 5’3″ in height) and my tendency to wear cleavage exposing singlets for comfort. However, the change in some women upon my revealing my profession instantly brings coldness and even hatred, which is sad and feels disempowering and isolating spiritually.

Trust me Lady, I don’t want your man, just his money. You can keep him. Especially if he’s one of my clients.

Seriously.

Also, now I’m back into the swing of it and not using drugs to cope with the work, it really is just a job to me. I don’t identify my Self as a hooker, I perceive very clearly these days, that now my profession is legal in my country, I can work for myself, pay my own tax, and I will never need to answer to a supervisor of any kind again, other than my conscience to not be lazy and answer my phone, I do need to make money after all! I also perceive very clearly, I am not the wanton woman I portray in the bedroom. I am, most definitely, quite a skilled actress and I’m just doing a job.

Standing from a level of respect for the profession, it’s quite clear that condoms have a very significant place in the bedroom part of the job.

I do want to know, what is wrong with the no condom dudes? Are they messed up in the head? Don’t tell me being turned on by the idea of f**king a hooker with no condom isn’t f**ked in the head, because I beg to differ.

Every one of those motherf***ers who ask for no condom gives the “I don’t like condoms” story. Why’s that, Bro? Does it turn you on to have sex with a woman who should be using condoms but isn’t, and if she has agreed to not use them with you, then obviously, she doesn’t use them with others who ask? Eewwwwwwww, yuck gross, that’s a bit sick. She could have picked up anything.

Those kinds of working girls are either so desperate for cash they are prepared to risk everything for that flash of cash, or they’re naive, people pleasing types who weakly allow someone to convince them to lower their standards “just for me, I’m clean, I promise”, or they are just dirty.

Those three options are all shit. Who wants to have paid sex with girls like that?

Apparently an absolute f**kload of men, that’s who!!

Over ten years ago when I worked privately, I got a lot of no condom requests, however, back then, the profession was still illegal, and we were viewed as dogs of society no better than prisoners and the homeless. Up in the parlours it wasn’t so bad, only every one in ten clients would ask for no condom, and out of them, every second one was excessively pushy over it before agreeing to accept the condom or f**k off out of my room.

Now it’s legal, a lot of men tend to view us as legitimate members of the workforce, it’s a refreshing change and makes doing the terms of contract part of our job much more pleasurable. “I don’t have to worry about my safety with this person, as he also cares about his own.”

This is a significant improvement, however the attitude that sex work is just for “dirty girls” is still so prevalent that I would say every second man who rings me will at least ask for “natural oral” as it’s euphemised to these days.

Maybe it isn’t that frequently at all, but it’s frequent enough that it FEELS like every second enquiry and is INCLUDED IN THE SPEIL DUE TO FREQUENCY OF REQUEST!!!!

That I have to mention it as part of what services I do and don’t do indicates that men ask sex workers to f**k them without condoms, and obviously there are girls out there who say yes, or they wouldn’t keep asking, surely?

Or is this naivety on my part? Is it ingrained into male DNA to want to share germs with as many others as possible, spread via penis and vagina skin cells? Is it that men just never evolved their penis skin to become more sensitive to compensate the lack of sensation caused by condoms? Or they are rutting pigs at heart and the literally dirtier the sex the better? (Male Hater, lol)

Here’s an idea for you men that always ask for no condom. How about looking at it from a healthy sex perspective? Do you really want to catch something off some silly, naive girl you have sucked into doing as you ask? Because if she’s done it with you, she’s probably done it with another. The question itself of why do you men keep asking for it if all the girls turn you down? proves it’s own logic. Also, why do you think that pointing out “you’re clean” is supposed to be enough to vouch the sex will not have any harmful side effects without condoms? Did it ever occur to you the GIRL might not be clean?

For me, as a hooker I’m tidier about condoms than in my personal life, very foolish considering what I know, but true. In fact, the only STI I ever caught was from a friend a few years back, when I wasn’t working and hadn’t for years. How do you know the girl doesn’t have a herpes skin break or hasn’t had a condom break and caught something but doesn’t know? Condoms do break, I’ve had plenty of breakages in my time, and you don’t always know at the time either. I’ve discovered it when I’ve been having a shower and a piece of condom washes out of me while I’m cleaning myself, or when I’ve been going to the toilet a piece of condom appears somewhere along the process. Every discovery like that has induced within me feelings of total horror, if I recall correctly.

Here’s one point I find quite hilarious to bring to their attention, especially when they’re actually complaining about losing sensitivity. Do you really want to come faster? Dude, most of my clients don’t last longer than five minutes WITH a condom, do you really wanna blow even FASTER THAN THAT??!! Fine by me, and thanks for the tip, but if you take that condom off, you’ll be finished off by hand.

I guess what makes me angry about it the most is that by asking even though I’ve already stated my stance on the topic, I’m being disrepected completely. I’m viewed as a piece of meat with a mouth and pussy and I’m supposed to be FLATTERED that I’ve been rung and enquired after. I’m supposed to drop at the heels of any male’s request and be GRATEFUL I’m receiving interest, and allow some “loser” I don’t know from a bar of soap to put his penis inside my vagina without protecting myself from wherever he’s been. It’s narcissistic arrogance, and a total turn off, let alone that it makes my job a hazard.

To top off the outrage that disrespect invokes, 90% of the men requesting no condoms take it as far as attempting to make me feel small, or like I’m missing out by not being more “relaxed” about it (because, you know, they’re clean) and I’m a big fool who doesn’t know my job, because “lots” of other girls do it, you know?

It turns out I could have done something about that man last week, if I had known. I didn’t want to approach the Police without talking to the Prostitute’s Collective first to query past instances of prosecution and what they entailed, plus find out how the prosecution process can be enacted. This meant that by Tuesday when they opened again, it was too late to do the “rape test” they do to gather evidence and I basically lost my chance. It’s a $2000 fine for him if successfully prosecuted and convicted. I’m disappointed I won’t get to pursue it, as I really felt he deserved to be taught a lesson.

I texted him that day after I realised what he had done letting him know I knew and said “How f**king disgusting.” He never acknowledged that text, but the next day, AND the day after that, he texted me asking if I was working. I couldn’t bring myself to respond with anything other than rage so I did nothing, but I was astounded at the gall of it. He was well spoken, literate enough I was shocked at his ethnicity when he arrived, well dressed, never once asked to do it without a condom and paid without fuss.

Yet this man had every intention of doing what he did from the beginning. He played ball right up until the end, then pretended to be playing with me while he got the condom off, then in literally two pumps, he was done.

I turned around to get the condom and thought it was weird it was already almost to the end, but then he didn’t fill it properly anyway (lol), so I assumed it slipped. He reached down to the blanket to wipe away a spot of come before I removed the condom which I thought again was weird, but assumed that with the condom slipping as it appeared to have, some must have leaked onto the bed and he was trying to clean it. (Guilt, as it turned out to be.)

It wasn’t until he left and I realised I was dripping excessively that I clicked in one horror moment what all those pieces put together added up to. I did the “sniff test”, without a doubt it was semen. Twenty five (two) showers later I still felt revolting, and very foolish for not being careful enough with my safety. There’s more ways to be inappropriately taken advantage of than being beaten, raped or merely talked into doing something silly and unsafe, and it appears that if the simple “request” is denied, that if it CAN be taken without permission it will. Then after, the smugness of getting away with it. Also, his culture considers it manly to impregnate women, so he would have been ecstatic if he learned he succeeded, with no intention of ever paying a cent in child support either (not that I would ever keep it).

It’s outrageous that he was so cheeky that he tried to see me again after all that, feigning ignorance by not acknowledging what I said. But this industry does seem to attract those woman disrespecting chauvenists. Imagine all the rapes that would happen if we weren’t here to service those cavemen types that don’t function beyond assessing and acquiring their physical needs.

They think they have but to demand something of “woman” and it shall be done, whether it’s making my sandwich or servicing my D, get to it.

I’m tired of that attitude. If it was still a case of men were men, and looked after their precious “little woman”, then I don’t see a problem with expecting a “servicing” when required. I’m old fashioned, I don’t consider it a stereotype situation of male dominance, I consider it a situation of balance. If a woman is kept by her man, it’s only fair she care for their environment and him so he can continue to keep her.

However, this day and age of excessive corporational greed and unacknowledged permanent recession have created a generation of women who have no choice but to work, therefore that changes the balance and dynamic of the situation. There’s no such thing as a “kept woman” in the middle to lower classes as far as I’m aware. Since women must work to provide income, just as the men of the house do, the housework and kids should also be shared, plus sex is NEVER to be assumed that it’s permanently on the table.

I ran out of gas at 4.30am the other morning on the way home from an outcall, I was wearing a little dress walking down the road. I had one guy at the gas station refuse to give me a lift back to my car, and then sped off directly down the street I needed to go down, and multiple others drove past me and I know they saw me, they just didn’t care. When I complained about it to the gas station attendant when I took the gas can back, he shrugged and said that’s how things are, implying he would have done exactly the same. (My thought was that he should move to the big smoke up north where the rest of the MetroMen are that have no balls, and leave the South to the Southern Men.) In today’s society, if it’s morally and ethically okay to drive past ANYONE walking down the road at 4.30am, waving desperately, holding a petrol can let alone a solo woman in a minidress, then not just chivalry but also common decency are both dead.

When you men make contact regarding work, don’t ever expect to ask for inappropriate requests regarding safe sex with an attitude of entitlement and get your way, there’s been nothing given to me by you other than your demand, and I owe you nothing. No, I will not send you a pic of my tits, that costs money and you’re just trying to get free sexting out of me, so you’re actually expecting me to provide part of my service to you, for free. No, I’m not impressed you want me, just because you’ve told me you do, you are entitled to NONE OF IT. Especially if you haven’t even made a booking.

Once that money is in my hand, or at least you’ve made a confirmed booking, you have more wiggle room to ask. You may be turned down, but at least you were respectful enough to wait until you had obtained a right to having your requests heard by initiating a legitimate transaction.

I’m at your service, hopefully the service I provide fits your desires and more than meets your expectations… all with a condom.

Missy X

How To Become A Forty Year Old Hooker

I guess the best place to start is now and fill in the back story as I go.

Today, some dirty bastard pulled the condom off and blew inside me and I didn’t realise until after he had left.

How’s that for an opening sentence??!! Grab ya?

I wish it were fiction. I just spent all the cash in my wallet getting the morning after pill from the chemist, (plus some other things I needed), since I’m not on other contraceptives, and I’m pretty f**king pissed about it to be honest. Not to mention repulsed beyond description.

I just had a full check up on Friday too!!!! I’m so outraged, I was clean as a whistle, of course, and now I not only feel revolting, I’ve been “contaminated” with a stranger’s internal juices. Oh my f**king God, that’s soooooo disgusting!

Out of the measly $60 I received for servicing that creep, I had to pay $40 of it for emergency contraceptive and there’s pretty much nothing I can do about it.

Yep, that’s cool man, I’m stoked.

So, how did I end up in this predicament?

Quite simply, last year took the trophy for “Worst Year Ever” in my life, and I’ve had some pretty shitty years along the way. This trophy was previously held by 2000, where I had a relationship end, found out I had cancer and a few other messed up things which I forget at this moment in time, but obviously pale in comparison to 2016. Good old 2016 involved actual hunger and distress on a primal level, not just mental and emotional trauma.

I lost my job May last year, got another one quite rapidly and was getting on top on things, then I discovered my new employers were actually abusive arseholes so I walked on them, thinking I’d get another job no problem. After all, I’ve always been one of those people that nails job interviews, I’ve had two interviews ever where I haven’t gotten the job, so I was pretty confident.

Well, four months and 130 job applications later, not one more interview, Christmas was coming up and boy, was I regretting my stuck up response to being employed by a bitch. If I had known that I would still be unemployed and hungry by November, I totally would have put up with her shit!

Anyway, by this time, I had actually reached nervous breakdown stage, as although I was receiving the Solo Parent Allowance, I had expenses created from before I was receiving the allowance that I wasn’t eligible for extra help with, a hire purchase agreement that needed $40 per week, a car on credit which I pay $92 a week for and I was dealing with a psychotic control freak at the power company who refused to lower my power payments below $90 a week with the threat that if I didn’t pay the full amount every week, she would have my power disconnected the day after my payday.

She was cool too, I really liked her, I always felt so happy after we spoke…

As I was saying, my expenses were out of control when compared to my income, the result being, if I paid all my bills, I had $25 per week left from my allowance to purchase food, petrol and any other expenses that I needed to cover throughout the week. Needless to say, I skipped heaps to create food money, I ended up in the shit, sad story, blah blah blah.

A self-created mess, totally owned and acknowledged by me, but a mess it was and I was getting backed further and further into a corner. I hardly remember what I did with myself I was so miserable. I recall just lying in bed in the dark the whole time, but I must have done other things, as I also remember doing everything I could to generate cash without reverting to being a hooker.

The fact I was even considering it was messing with my head. I went through hell after I quit last time. Losing all that disposable income and the party life all for the sake of being a good example to my little girl cost me my comfortable life, party times and self esteem too, as I lost a lot of “friends” along the way, which got to me with the psychological issues I was suffering at the time. Plus, I was terrified that going back to the game would lead me straight back to the drugs, and I’m done with that mental world.

Don’t get me wrong, I still like to party, occasionally, but hooking means disposable income, which means it’s nothing to party, plus… “I need my drugs to handle the hooking”. I was terrified of “needing” A Class substances and going back to being lost in that world. I was never into downers and needles and I wasn’t the worst kind of junkie, but a junkie I pretty much ended up by the time I walked away from it all. Loved my meth, yummy, yummy. Bad for my brain though, I’m STILL in physical recovery from all my binges, I’ve done so much damage. I’m still not sure if it was worth it…

So, when a few things happened that led me to the realisation I could go back on the game and successfully stay off the A Class, it gave me a kind of freedom. The food parcels from the mission and 0800 Hungry were good, but not enough, my bills had all gone to different collection agencies and my sanity seemed to have run for the hills. Suddenly, it no longer mattered that I was “going backward”, we had full tummies! I could pay my bills! I had PETROL in my car!! I didn’t feel like my life was OVER ANYMORE!!!! Wow, it was fantastic.

My daughter even got Christmas presents! It was pretty cool actually (not being sarcastic this time) and since then it’s been all up with a couple of plateaus here and there. I even have my car repaired and road legal again, which cost me $500, so I’ve definitely moved forward since starting in late November.

There’s lot more detail obviously, but you get the picture. Desperate mum can’t feed her family anymore so goes on the game to survive.

And here I am!

Back to today’s disgust with what I put up with for my money. I so totally do not charge enough!

Now I’ve vented, I’m empty and can think of nothing to add, so I will post this as it is. I’m sure more will come to me and I really hope you enjoy the read.

Signed

Missy X