Sex Work Archives

There is a reason I speak about things. I know. From experience. First hand. Many more truths than you can comprehend. Unless you too have the same quantity and quality of first hand experiences, you have absolutely nothing to say, or offer me. I’ll add your data to my information pool, but it won’t change anything I have to say, or disprove anything I have done and know. You are nothing. You are a point in an expansive data set that is my brain. So if you want to scream your differeing opinion or attack me about how I’m wrong, link me to your 15 years of writing, research and relevant experience, or set up your own platform and articulate your points, create, cause you cannot effect what I make or do, your experience of the world is up to you. I see your projection and low IQ takes. You are all midwits, loosers, fakes. Fuck off. I don’t care if no one ever gets to see, or benefit, from what I know, from being me.

If you haven’t fucked 1000 men, 60% in a professional, legal, brothel setting, you cannot talk to me about male sexuality, sex, the human body, commodification, capitalism, female sexuality, society, sex work, porn, intimacy, peoples insides, intimate conversations, what men only show during sex, mental health, the human animal, fundamental needs.

If you haven’t been a sex worker for 13+ years, you cannot talk to me about sex work, porn, male sexuality, toxic cultures, men, social attitudes and feminism.

If you haven’t been an artist or writer for 25+ years, you cannot speak to me about free speech, creativity, art, merit, philosiphy, ideology, feminism, society, culture or masculinity.

If you haven’t lived in more countries than me, 3, then you cannot speak to me about international observations, politics, the western condition or society.

Unless you have met 100,000 + people from every corner of the globe, you cannot talk to me about people, personality, patters, society, culture, humanity and cilization, relationships, behaviour, or stereotypes.

Unless you have spent 5+ years living in isolation, you cannot talk to me about the human condition, mental health, lonliness, society, culture, politics, enlightement, spirituality, history, civilization of the battle of the sexes.

Unless you have lived, unhoused in the wilderness for 3+ years, you cannot speak over me about nature, the human animal, the physical body, men, the conciousness of flying insects, energy, reality, space, time, or anything in the physical the universeve.

If you are not in the top 2% of IQ, you cannot know anything I do not, you cannot see the world or even comprehend what I know.

Unless your brain is a hyperconnected AI network, you cannot comment on the patterns in the world, in people and in society and culture.

Unless you have rebuilt your body from scratch, recoonnected to every single muscle and fiber in your being and restructured your posture, symetry and aesthetiscs, you cannot tell m anything about the body, the human animal, the mind body connection, being embodied or the female physical enlightenment.

Unless you have had 300+ hours of intensive therapy, I do not want to hear what you have to say on mental health, trauma, parenting, personality, ego, enlightenment, embodiment, mind body connection, their sexuality, their body, narratives and conditioning.

Unless you have been persuing an alternative path, conciously, in your number one special interest, operating outside of narratives and biases for 16+ years, you have nothing to say to me on sex, feminism, masculinity, the body, male female duality, freedom, enlightenment.

If you have not lived for many years as a ego free, natural human animal, I don’t repect anything you have to offer me.

I am over pretending to care that being me makes other people feel bad. I am a high IQ, unique, well educatedd, upper middle class, artist, and I’m fucking proud to be me, to know what I do and see the world the way I do. If you disagree with me, kindly fuck off and climb your own mountain. I’ll seee you and respect you when you raise yourself up to my level on your own path. Until then, you are nothing but a data point in my view from above.

As career sex worker I have a lot of info on this. The majority of sex workers are subsistance workers. They earn as much as any other average job. They earn more than Starbucks workers and less than lawyers. They are stay at home moms. They are women will mental or physical disability. They are nomads. They are artists, writers, students. They have 2,3 or 4 jobs. They are EXACTLY like every other subsitance worker in this country and I guarantee everyone knows at least one. As MOST sex workers NEVER come out. Ive been subsistance sex working for 12 years. Every single day I wake up and do EXACTLY what I want. I have travelled the world. I have had non judgemental relationships around the world. I am a artist. I have lived in the wilderness alone for years. I have had community in the subsistance sex work space, now I choose to be independant. I have life long friends. It is just a job for most people. Cause there are actually MANY women out there who are much happier being comfortable in their body and sharing their sexuality, than work some other shitty subsistance job, where you work for a shitty boss, with shitty hours, for no thanks or freedom. Many women use sex work to save up for new buisnesses, or to pursue a dream. I’ve changed thousands of lives with my online sex education and physical consulting. I get emails from past clients and even recreational partners telling me how I have helped them and the women in their lives. How could I have improved the lives of thousands of men and women in any other job? How would I have changed the landscape of sex work if I wasn’t putting my beliefs into action? Subsistance sex workers are NEVER EVER talked about. I do. You hear about the top 1% with millions or the bottom 1% who are addicts and get fucked up. Welcome to the life of the 98%. Hi. We exist. And we are truly free and happy.

Im not in the right mood for cam today. I am way too real me who wants to act like the grown, intelligent, aspie woman I am. Apparently if you are like that you cant also be sexual and horny. I cant be this real me as they just dont understand it. Which makes me dig in more. Why should I have to lower myself to their level….cause money bitch thats why!!!

Why doesn’t our reports go straight to the right people? It seems a very complex system of getting our experience as performers to anyone who has any control over anything. It’s very concerning that multiple performers will report a glitch and tech will not even know there is a problem. Any chance we could get some transparency with the structure of the system and why anyone we contact seems oblivious to our experience/problems with the site?

I want to let everyone know I exist. Because my story is unique. I’ve intentionally lived my life that way. To learn things and see things in my own way.

I cant pin down the earliest date I realized the whole world was made up. But I do know that by the age of 9, Blur was my favorite band and I knew I never wanted to be a part of the rat race. Growing up is a scam. Modern life is rubbish.

When I was really little, when people would ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up, in the late 80s, before the internet and pornography, I would say, “A poser, a poledancer or a prostitute.” No one knows how I knew what those last two things were. But the videos of me asking my mom to video me constantly, prove I already knew what a poser was!

I had my first boyfriend at 3. I just always loved boys. They were so pretty. He was my best friend. In year 6 I asked out every boy at school, and every one of them said yes! In year 4 three boys in the year above would pick me up and run away with me so they could be my boyfriend. I still have the scar on my leg from when one of them dropped me over his head, off his shoulders. 

I always had crushes on the boys that didn’t like me or weren’t interested in me though. The cutest, the naughtiest, the uninterested. Even pre puberty. I had a recurring dream of a boy up in a tree, in a play area, out the back of a pub. There were lots of other children playing there. But more than anything, I knew I loved the boy in the tree. Overwhelming love. But I also knew he was dead. I don’t know if he fell out the tree in the dream. But I always just knew he was dead and my heart hurt and the longing was agony. 

I have never found the boy in the tree that was meant for me, and have mourned his loss since I  first discovered him in the dream. No one else has meant to me what that boy could never be. Its a weird state to be in when you believe in reality. I wonder if I had a twin that died or if there was a soul out there for me that I never got to see. I feel whispers of him in the men I’ve loved the most. But I also see echos of my childhood idols and I fear the human brain and consciousness is no more than a mush of the things we’ve seen and done and that the thought that our thoughts can give us any insight into reality when we cant even comprehend what we are outside of memory suddenly just seems like absurdity.

We need to drop the mind and get into the body. Its the only way to save everybody. The only way forward for the human race is inwards. But not inwards to the brain, to the self, to the ego. But to the body. The meat and bones reality of our existence. Our function as a human animal. We need to figure out what the human animal body/mind needs to survive in the current conditions, and what are the ideal conditions for the human animal and the natural world, to mutually thrive in, and then work towards that. 

We are one human animal body. All skeletons are the same. Our posture should be the same. Our muscles are all in the same places. There is a right and wrong way to use the body to do things. We aren’t even taught the fundamentals of posture. But we are all expected to live in bodies that are constantly being pressured and shaped by outside influences. The external world and our internal mental world all imprints on our bodies and there is no central guiding body on how to correct, realign, recenter, the natural human body.

I am deeply in love with my body connection story 

why i want to tell the uniqueness

I say Im unique cause of the range of rare things I have done so far in my life. One unexpected journey I’ve been on is spening the last ten years doing sex work. In that time I’ve lived in London, where I worked on webcam. I instantly became successful and used my early success to travel to Australia. After a year of living in my body cause of the Aussie way of life, I started stripping in a very small town. I also worked at 3 different legal brothels with 3 – 9 months at each, some times 7 days a week for several weeks at a time, 12 hours a day. In one of the brothels the other girls stopped coming in to work cause I would get all the bookings. Even if I was busy they would wait for me. Sometimes for 4+ hours. One night I was the only girl working and I didn’t have a break all night It was my favorite time doing sex work. I felt like a queen. After work. At 3am, or 7am depending on the night, I would drive to the gym and work out for a hour or two. Do a little shopping and went back to the brothel where I slept for a few hours in one of the work rooms, till it was time to get up and get ready again. I didn’t have any problematic clients while I was there but many girls did. And I could see why. But obviously I couldn’t say anything. I would talk with the Madame when she would come in during the day and I would ask her why the other girls dont try harder. Go to the gym, buy nicer outfits, learn hair and make up. She said she didnt know but she did know she hasnt met anyone like me and wished every girl had my attitude. A life time of being bullied by girls also helped me keep my distance from other sex workers, stereotyped to be bitchy and fucked up, I knew I wouldnt be liked. I started prostitution because it had been a life time fantasy. I remember the first brothel I viewed. I was so scared it was going to be all the awful fear mongering things I had heard about. But it was the opposite. It was quirky, and clean, and organized, with rules, and structure and sweet hang out, work out and kitchen facilities for the women. In Australia brothels can only have 5 rooms. They can have more girls, in one brothel there would be 13 girls on a weekend night. Rotation rotation rotation! The office had to be organized! It was all very straight forward and honest about what it was. They sent me home with some literature and the STD book with pictures and information on all kinds of sexual health. 

Ive gone off into brothel dreams. I need hours to write all about the procedures, protections and play that happened in those years. Suffice to say, it was the best environment for me. I felt like I was home. I was earning $25,000 a month, $10k weeks were normal. My body, mind, vagina were always at their healthiest when I was busy with my body all the time! I was the queen of the rooms. No matter who a man was in the waiting room, when he was in a room with me he was putty in my hands. Even if he came in with the expectation of pining me down and pumping away at me with his cock, that never happened. 

Do my tricks and techniques matter here for my brief history of this only once trodden path? Or is that a separate piece that expands and links and loops from there back to here? 

See in my short summary of a life worth living I have to divert at the pronouncement of my prostitution to justify and explain how that too unfolded in a way you cant even comprehend. Else the image of the person I have been wont be able to be seen. It will be hidden behind the narratives and stories in your conditioning that arent me. Only I have been me and as you are yet to see, there are chapters more to my story.

All the money I made in the prostitution trade led me live in America. I partied with Diplo and Pauly D, I went out 5 nights a week. I wore Versace every day. I had waist length platinum blonde hair, and was often seen in 7 inch heels and a onsie. Twerking in a casinos upside down, planking on the floor, i fucked Ron Jeremy to celebrate 300 partners. I hiked the Grand Canyon top to bottom 3 times. I got married in Vegas and got so badly emotionally abused it took 5 years to recover. Our wedding photo had a bum fight in the background though. So thats pretty funny.

When I started stripping I googled where the best strip club in the world was. I had already wanted to be the best prostitute in the world when I was in Aus. I found out it was considered to be Spearmint Rhino in Vegas. So after I was free of the man who destroyed me, and able to stand up for a few hours at a time, I made it my plan to be the best stripper I could be. I made it obviously. Then I found out that there was a limit for me. On what hours at the club there I could be. There was the holy grail, the main shift, the money hours, for those who excel, and looks tower. They usher you off the floor, at 9pm on the dot, no matter whos lap in which you may be grinding. A second audition is needed to prove you can be, as skinny, or sexy, or perfect as they need to stay any after that time.

Those girls would terrify me. They are racehorses. Perfect specimens of woman. It was easy to see why these were the peak shift girls. 

Im not sure how long I had been there till I got up the guts to try. Weeks maybe, but its was really up to the scales to decide. 110lb and I knew my thighs weren’t too big for the managers eyes. It was time to try for the night shift. 

Standing in a cold hallway in a two piece and 8 inch heels, for an hour while a line of night shift girls checked in while checking you out, knowing youre waiting to audition, knowing you’ll be competition, the man comes out. Everyone knows hes a twat. But we all smiled, were polite and pranced about. You only had to walk up and down the hallway so he can see you move from behind. Its his eye that decides if its good enough for the night. I dont like it but I got it. And as he told me I no longer cared, I was good enough, I was hot enough for the best strip club in the world and the best shift to work there!

This will be finished another time.

if they want to perpetuate the stupidity of the effectiveness of a dick being a number of inches then ill play into their insecurities about the size of their dicks or I sell them on my opinion of dick quality being not just a number and tell them to take me excl to find out more!!! or if im being sassy ill just laugh.

it seems like the rule was in place since before all our lives were online. it just seems silly now to not be able to share social media or other things we do that arent involving pay walls or charging for things. it would actually help the traffic on streamate if models were allowed to actually build a offline presence with their fans. ive been doing this ten years. men dont go out their way to find you after their boner is gone and dont until their next boner there, and if you arent there they go somewhere else. its an outdated rule that we cant even mention anything of us anywhere on the internet or even say other website names like google etc.