Euro Spa Sting

On Thursday, July 14, The Seattle Times reported on a sting operation conducted by Seattle Police from July 5 to July July 14. SPD netted 22,000$ from the money the clients brought to pay their provider and expect over a half million in fines to follow.

Several things disturb me about this event. Aside from my obvious disagreement with the current laws regarding my work and my clients, these sorts of nonviolent crimes should not be a priority for SPD when we have violent actions right here in Seattle, particularly in the primarily black Central District. The comments left by readers reflected that opinion, citing specific instances where even upper class white neighborhoods see long response times, if any at all, while time and resources pour into this lucrative yet socially damaging operation.

Some say that it’s justified since these men were looking to see “sex slave[s]” and that they were planning to exploit vulnerable women. From the comments made by the Undercover Officer who played the provider and by Police Chief Umporowitz, the woman these men thought they were seeing for sexual services was neither a slave nor vulnerable. She bragged about her ability to convince reluctant clients to agree to exchange money for services (a crime now called Misdemeanor Sexual Exploitation instead of the clearer but less emotionally charged Misdemeanor Patronizing a Prostitute) and all officers quoted in the article expressed disdain for the men they arrested. The article specifically mentions men crying and begging not to be charged as charges like this, particularly with such a vague and damning title, can cause the loss of family, employment, and establishes far reaching stigma. In each case, the writer showed no compassion or sympathy. For those who believe that a sting like this helps end demand for sexual slavery or sexual human trafficking, that is a misperception. There will always be a market for sexual labor and if that market is saturated with consenting adults operating legally, the vast majority of clients will choose the legally operating providers over those who expose them to legal risks such as underage providers or drug users.

So we see that first, stings don’t decrease the demand for sexual labor, they simply drive the market for it further underground and scare off respectable clients. Second, this particular sting did nothing to combat actual abuse considering the clients had no reason to think abuse was occurring, nor were they attempting to abuse the provider. Third, the social and financial consequences these men now face are more harmful to the public than helpful considering the emotional and economic fallout of strong punishments.

My heart goes out to these men. This article was posted to the Seattle subreddit and one of the young men arrested posted a comment.


I was one of the men arrested through this sting. I haven’t told any of my friends or family because I am embarrassed and I just wanted to let my feelings out. As someone who often times feels alone this was a way out and a way I could have physical contact with someone. I knew what I was doing was illegal. But a way to escape the loneliness even just for a bit seemed with it. I am very young in my early 20’s (not the one mentioned in the article). This happening so early in my life makes me feel that any hope for a positive future very unlikely. I am going to school right now but not sure if I’ll keep going. Since it does go on my record everywhere I apply to will see it and make it hard to get a professional job so I don’t see the point in trying. Not to mention the $2700 fine will make my life for the next year a much more challenging. I am working on accepting what happened and moving on but it’s hard. This is just a different perspective on this issue.

Thank you for reading.

Regardless of whether or not you believe that the act of prostitution itself is morally right or wrong, ruining lives over a nonviolent act is not healthy for society. This poor young man, just starting his life, now faces enormous hurdles for simply trying to find someone to touch him in a nonjudgemental, human way. I have many clients looking for the same thing: human contact. They are all kind, thoughtful, appreciative, and undeserving of this ridicule and harsh punishment. This sting was not about aiding vulnerable women, it was not about safety or equality, it was about money, pure and simple. SPD made over half a million dollars from fines alone and the publicity this generates will go toward winning another grant from anti-prostitution NPOs. While the time and energy of a dozen officers over the course of ten days went into arresting and punishing guys who just want to be touched, Seattle citizens suffered from decreased enforcement for real time, potentially violent crimes.

Please readers, stay safe. This work is good and meaningful and fun and pleasurable and I would hate for anyone else to get caught in the political crossfire. SWOP is talking with legislators, city attorney’s, and others in response to activities like this and continues to fight for the decriminalization of this harmless work so that you, our client, can better know who is and isn’t safe and so that resources are focused on actual abuse and violence.

To those who went to Euro Spa and felt the harsh hand of the law, I am so sorry. I am also interested in talking with you about your experience. I would love to paint a verbal picture of what it looks and feels like to go through that process. People should know how it feels to go through something like that and a sympathetic portrait of a victim of a sting could be a huge step towards humanizing my beloved clients.

Cabin Time

It is done. I write this on the penultimate day with only myself and my partner left to slowly but surely clean up after over twenty loved ones have come and gone. The beds have been stripped and laundry is running, dishes are clean and put away, food has been eaten, packed or thrown away, and only the last tasks of retrieving items left at the dock, cleaning the floors, and locking up are left. It is quiet, save for the whine of the drier and the sounds of my partner puttering through a myriad of little tidying tasks that aren’t exactly necessary but add that homey touch. The sun is out, slanting through fluffy white clouds rolling over the treetops. I’ll have to change into cooler clothes soon as the day heats up and my casual sweats and calf length boots get too warm.

My time here has been long and interesting. On day one we drove out from Seattle, I settled sleepily in the passenger seat, he speeding along to the tune of NPR and The Splendid Table. We settled in, unpacked, and set to work. I was not happy.

My first mental shift happened on day three. Driving out, I got into vacation mode. I was ready to sit back, drink some wine, read my book, and relax. Unfortunately, there were too many tasks needed to make the place pleasant for me to simply settle in quietly. There were flower beds to be weeded, holes to be patched, gutters to be cleaned, floors to be swept, and a dock to repair. I felt cheated, like I had worked hard, made money, and earned my vacation but here was more work I had to do! I moped and pouted as he ran around getting things done and in my feelings of being slighted, sniped at him spitefully. We went into town for some last minute errand running and the whole time I felt like I deserved something easier. Instead of the cool and clean communication we usually enjoy, I was passive aggressive and opaque. This started when we arrived, continued through day two and didn’t disappeared until the morning of day three. I woke up and decided to do some yoga. I have little book and went through the beginner poses for about an hour and by the time I was done, it was only 11 in the morning and I already felt accomplished. It felt natural to weed the flower beds while he sprayed sealant on the gutters and mixed cement for the patio. We chatted and listened to the radio and, though I was physically working, it felt easy. I scattered flower seeds under dark soil and watered the newly turned beds. I swept and raked and weeded the downstairs patio, removing the accumulated pine needles and leaves of the last year and yanking tufts of grass from the cracks. I finished it off with a few deck chairs and felt good and proud, like I often do after a session in which my skills clearly show. I had shifted from grumpy mode into cabin time.

Cabin time is an interesting phenomenon. You sleep when you’re sleepy, eat when the food is ready, fish for however long you want, drink slowly, chat lazily, move or sit still for as long as it feels right, and listen to the natural rhythms of your own internal switches. There are few clocks around here and even then we don’t pay close attention. The funny thing is, your body sets a much better time than you set by a clock. Alarms, deadlines, timetables, check in-check out, hurry hurry hurry all stresses your body so when you wake up, you’re tired and when you go to bed you can’t fall asleep. Out here, you just stay up talking until you feel sleepy and you wake up when you have to pee. I was up by nine or ten most days, except this morning because I stayed up until 1:30 talking about sex work and libertarianism (with friends who don’t know about my true profession, so even cooler than usual). Cabin time means giving your body the time it needs to reset and do what it needs to do.

So I was on cabin time, relaxing into tasks, constantly moving until my body is ready to stop. Now our friends began arriving. A few from our local watering hole, a few from my college days, and the next day my brother and his budding family. Tents started popping up and beds filled, couches got rearranged, people started mingling.

I got to spend some quality time with my brother’s new girlfriend. She and I are closer in ideology than she and my brother but his extreme sanguinity means that as long as they agree on the important parts, which they seem to, they should be alright. I played with my nephew for hours. We tossed a ball and chased each other around and I had the satisfaction of giving my brother some much needed time off. I also had a bit of a very powerful brownie provided by one of my beloved clients that made me laugh at the things a four year old laughs at which helped. I had brunch with my old college friends who joked about boners and bought pies to share with the group. We walked and chatted and renewed bonds several years removed. My mother spent a night, sharing a bit of time with her son, possible future daughter in law, and grandson and a lot of time with me and my friends. Who knew I could bond with my mother over a dump run, haha! I am more and more reaching a mutual respect with both my parents. I think the day is coming In a year or so from now that I can talk with both of them plainly about my profession and my passions. His brother came by with a five year old so once again I took over babysitting duties. We frolicked in the lake, getting on and off all the floating creations we use to entertain and support ourselves and exchanging a constant stream of dialogue. My mother chimed in “I would have more sympathy for you but you did it to yourself.” I think she also saw an echo of my own constant chatter in this curious child and it amused her to see me treading her own path 22 years ago, even for only an afternoon.

People began to trickle away. Flights departed, cars disappeared into the woods, and slowly the cabin emptied until today, when it is just Us again. I’m looking forward to when the work is done and we can look at this place with pride as we ourselves vanish back to the city. I will miss it. I will always miss it as a busy, relaxing, healing respite from the routine of busses and bodywork, missed connections and gridlock. It’s been three years since the first time I came out to The Cabin and I finally feel what he feels for it. This is home. This is a place where family fights, friends love, you work and relax with equal vigor, and the more sweat that goes in the more love comes out.

Rose has been watching my inbox for me; I’ve checked in now and again just to stay abreast of what is happening but for days at a time I’ve not looked at or for my phone. I think this is the final step in my disconnection. While I use my digital connection to the world for many things, it will no longer be a tether. I have shed the need to constantly check in, knowing that my world, generally, will take care of itself.

My moods and opinions, influenced by my time here with loved ones and finally negating the bitter input from TNA and some Twitter feeds, have swung once more towards faith in humanity’s general goodness and, while I am aware of the constant violence that rocks our modern world, I am not afraid. People die, the world changes, and sometimes it is rough but come what may, humanity will always live and most people, many people, are good and decent. I will continue to hold myself, my friends, and my clients to a higher standard of thought and behavior and I will continue to campaign for our right to mingle and entertain each other.

So here’s a glass of your beverage of choice, raised to good friends, the good of humanity, and cabin time

The Chronicles of Alvin Maker by Orson Scott Card

First, let me say that OSC is one of my favorite authors because of the Ender series. The premise is incredible, the science fiction genre is a favorite of mine, the writing is well paced and engaging, and the conclusion is satisfying. I have yet to decide whether the difference in my own opinion between the Ender series and the Alvin Maker series is in the writing itself or in the fact that I read one and listened to the other on audio book.

The Chronicles of Alvin Maker begins with the birth of our hero. We’re introduced to the five year old Peggy Guester, a torch who can see people’s heart fires, their life force or soul, and potential futures as they change with decisions. She sees a large family crossing a river that is very suddenly in flood and she sends her father and several other townspeople to rescue the family. Unfortunately the oldest son dies in the process of saving his heavily pregnant mother from a huge tree trunk in the current but the rest of the family is saved and taken to Peggy’s home, the local inn. Alvin is born and Peggy is present for the birth, their fates forever entwined. As Alvin’s family continues in their westward travels, toward Ohio country, Peggy can see Alvin’s ‘heartfire’ and rescues him multiple times, using the power of some of the placenta she saved from his birth. The reason he has so much power is that his oldest brother, who died in the flood, didn’t actually die until Alvin was actually born, so he is a seventh son of a seventh son. You see, this whole story is set in a pioneer America in which magic is real. Different races harness magic in different ways, but it is real and being the seventh son of a seventh son confers onto little Alvin some serious powers.

Alvin grows up, his evil nemesis “The Unmaker” following him all the time, trying to kill him using water, the most corrosive of the four elements. He uses his power in childish ways as a child but a ‘Red Man’, a Native American, appears to Alvin in a vision as part of the man’s spirit quest and admonishes the child to only use his powers for good. A preacher with envy in his heart is visited by the Unmaker and tried to kill little Alvin at one point but is foiled by Peggy’s use of Alvin’s powers. She is, as always, watching out for him.

In the second book, Alvin goes away from home and meets up with a prominent Red Man, traveling the land recruiting other Reds for either a rebellion or a mass exodus. The man’s brother is the same man who appeared to Alvin as a vision and is considered a prophet. Between the two, alongside the machinations of a powerful white governor from the south, they orchestrate a massacre by whites of reds that begins the Reds’ exodus to the lands west of the ‘Mizzippy’. Alvin learns how to heal physical trauma in a person even near death, walk in the way of the Red Man (silently, quickly, listening to the music of the earth moving together as one), and forges ties between red and white people. All before he is 11 years old. Seriously. He also walks on water and has a vision of a city made of crystal that he’s supposed to make. Because he’s a maker. Whatever.

In the third book, he becomes an apprentice blacksmith and gets involved with the abolitionist movement He returns to where his big brother died and where a corrupt blacksmith is willing to take him on as an apprentice. It’s also where Peggy lives but she runs away the day before he arrives because she can see the future and only her leaving creates futures in which Alvin actually falls in love with her instead of marrying her out of duty. Or something. (It starts getting a bit absurd at this point but I’m invested in the story so I continue). The same day Alvin arrives and Peggy leaves, an escaped slave, raped by her white master under the influence of the Unmaker, brings herself and her baby to the Peggy’s town using black magic. The effort she used to escape kills her and Peggy’s mother adopts the half black baby and names him after a contemporary king. As a joke. Alvin works hard, learns well, does even better work than the master blacksmith, and also befriends the little boy. Meanwhile, Peggy runs away and lives with a woman her father cheated with years ago (she knows who, where, why, and how because heart fires and stuff. Whatever.) to learn how to be a real lady. Once she’s learned that she goes to college to learn how to be a school teacher and returns in disguise to her hometown. She teaches the little boy and Alvin, privately, because that’s the real reason she came back to her hometown. There is controversy over her teaching the half black boy because racism. Some slave trackers come to town to find the little boy and Alvin helps rescue him. He transforms the little boy’s genes in order to render the tracking magic the slave trackers use useless and baptizes him (symbolic much?) to wash away any leftover skin cells, etc. The slave trackers return to where they last saw the boy, one gets shot by Peggy’s mom, the other shoots Peggy’s mom, Peggy freaks out, reveals herself to Alvin, they’re in love, blah blah blah, Alvin kills the other slaver, they all run away and live happily ever after. Oh, also, Alvin makes a magic gold plow that is alive and in order to do so he climbs in the forge fire and basically burns to death but then heals himself and also changes the atomic nature of iron to turn it into gold in the fist place. My skepticism is full bore at this point but I NEED to know what happens next!

In the fourth book, Alvin and the little half black boy go back home to live with his family as journeyman blacksmith and friend. He starts trying to teach people how to understand atoms and cells but most people pretty much can’t. His little brother, also a seventh son of a seventh son because the oldest died before he was born, is a little shit and behaves shittily. He has similar powers to Alvin but has no scruples and is basically just a conceited, insecure, braggy little shit. Some stupid little girl has a crush on Alvin, spreads rumors, and drives him out of town so he goes wandering with the half black boy. They go back to where he was an apprentice and the corrupt blacksmith has claimed the golden plow is actually made out of gold the blacksmith had from family or something. There’s jail and a trial but Alvin can bend metal like wet clay so it’s not really in danger, it’s just another way to show how particularly wholesome Alvin is. He is acquitted and keeps wandering, hoping to find some inspiration. His little brother wanders around also, being a little shit and getting into trouble, lying and drinking and using his powers for petty shit. Peggy and Alvin are in love and get married. They want to stop slavery but it’s not that easy. Stuff happens. It’s not that important or interesting.

In book five, Peggy stirs up unrest in the slave south while Alvin travels New England where magic is illegal. He gets accused of witchcraft, his little shit of a brother gets in trouble in the same city his wife is in, he leaves the witch trial by literally peeling his shackles off and goes to rescue his wife, the trial gets fucked up in a good way (read, no more witch trials) by the judge, he saves the day and literally creates a bridge over a lake using his blood, leads his people to the promised land, figures out how to create the crystal city, and his little brother, literally restored to health from being a fucking zombie, continues to be a little shit. Also, they go to Mexico to win a war but the other reds light up a volcano. What the hell is even happening at this point?!?!!

Obviously, summing up some half dozen books (I think I accidentally smushed two together) isn’t easy. A lot happens, background fills in and moral agendas unfold, and trying to analyze an entire multi book series in a single review is not the easiest. That being said, all of the books are in the same universe and follow the same people so they do all kind of mesh.

The universe concept is awesome. It presents colonial and post-colonial America in an alternate universe where there are crown colonies in the south, independent America is in the northwest, Native Americans create their own reservation out of ALL land west of the Mississippi, and Puritan New England is its own state. The Red magic is the magic of the land, specializing in communication with earth and woods and creatures, focusing on cyclical relationships and wholistic existence, voluntary sacrifice, and long term survival over short term gain. The Negro magic comes from objects and bits of yourself, feathers and urine and lost hairs and wax to bind it all together, powerful but requiring sacrifices. The white magic comes as ‘knacks’. Particular skills such as forming iron, cooking, comforting, or storytelling all come as particular, slightly supernatural ‘knacks’ in each person. Alvin’s knack is ‘making’, the ability to see deeply into the atoms and cells and souls that make up a person or a thing. He can knit bones and arteries, change iron to gold, convince wildlife to trust him, and even use his blood to form water into blocks of crystal that should last forever. It’s a really neat idea and formed the backbone to a great epic of good against evil and the slow evolution of a young person into someone meaningful and lasting.

It’s also kinda fun that it’s peppered with historical figures. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Abraham Lincoln, John Adams, George Washington, David Bowie, and dozens more pop into and out of Alvin’s life and the world he lives in. Their lives are often vastly different from what history tells us, but it’s fun to kind of have an idea of their historical significance and watch how the author plays with them. They’re all useful to alvin’s cause or used by his enemies but their addition enlivens the world Alvin’s story lives in.

The story itself is incredible. It’s the story of an extraordinary child set against impossible odds, changing the world and learning how one mistake at a time. Alvin makes difficult choices and moves the world in meaningful ways, all the while just a humble young man who wants to settle down and raise a family. It’s the classic story of a normal person with greatness thrust upon them that lights imaginations so often and to such great effect.

The writing is…. Acceptable. I have a feeling that, had I read it instead of listening to it and would thus be able to skim over some of the more repetitive moralizing and recapping, I would have enjoyed it much more. Because I listened to it, I heard in every. Single. Volume. The story of how little Peggy Guester saved the ‘birth caul’ from newborn Alvin’s face and used the power from it to save him many times. I heard multiple times the tedious conversations that served no purpose in moving the action forward, only allowed the author to express his personal opinions. I swear, if I hear one more woman read to me, passionately, the story of Alvin’s birth I’d freaking… Well, do nothing, really, just get really annoyed. I get that in a series you have to make sure that each book technically stands alone, but seriously… It got so sappy and so moralistic and so focused on what the characters thought instead of what they did… I wonder if audio book needs a different kind of writing than books intended to be read only.

Overall, the series is reasonable. It’s a good story, an interesting world, it has two, if not three dimensional characters, and I think I would have very much enjoyed sitting on a patio reading them quietly more than I enjoyed listening to overly dramatic orators stress every damn syllable. Next on my list is the biography of Thomas Jefferson and in the middle was ‘the Witches of America’, a story of the making of a documentary on modern day Wicca, both of which I can assure you are more interesting and a better use of your Audio book time. Also, If you haven’t read all of Mary roach’s books yet, they’re a much more entertaining and valuable use of your time. I recommend them at least three times more than I reccomend the Chronicles of Alvin Maker.

As a side note, I read these books because I now have access to a service called overdrive. Using your Seattle public library card, you can check out books and audio books for free. It’s a great service and even if you aren’t interested in these books in particular, there are hundreds of other volumes to check out. It’s a particularly good idea for kids who will read and discard their literature.

He Brought Me Wine

He had gray hair, tall and lean for his age, and he was carrying a small wooden box, oval, held together with tiny brass pegs.
“I brought this for you.”
This was our first meeting, always a moment of nerves, expectancy, wonder, and usually my own emotional pleasure. I enjoy impressing people with my wit and pretty face and you only get that first chance to make an impression. It’s also my chance to suss out a new client. Is he pushy? Will I need to keep my panties on the reinforce boundaries or will I be able to hover inches from his face, secure in the knowledge that he’ll hold himself back? Can I reach my taser?
“Thank you! It beautiful, where did you get it?””
“I had this old maple in my back yard that needed to be cut down. Turns out it’s [some special kind that’s got a gorgeous wavy grain but I don’t remember] so I saved the lumber.”
“You made this!?” I was astonished. I looked closer at the tight fastenings, the little brass circles flush with the wood grain, lustrous, bright, shimmering, and full of chocolates. “Did you make these, too?”
“They’re orange truffles. I hope you like chocolate.”
In two minutes this man, some seventy-something retiree, had made me feel simultaneously like an adored mistress and the laziest sod to walk the earth. The details of our meeting fade away but that stands out, as does our second and only other meeting.

“Would you give this to Adelle? It’s her label.”
He had just presented me with four tall, dark bottles, capped with a ruby wax seal. Labeled ‘Christina Rouge’, ‘Christina Cabernet Franc’, ‘Christina Cabernet Sauvignon’, and ‘Adelle Rouge’ and simple, clear labels. The three ‘Christina’ bottles had a simple silhouette, hand sketched with only four lines, of a woman’s curved ass and the outline of one hip. The one labeled ‘Adelle’ had a dark label that, if one looked closely, hid a demure photo drawn from Adelle’s website, contrast turned down low so it would be subtle.
“Now when you open this, don’t drink it right away. Give it at least a day or two. I don’t have enough barrels to do the full aging so it’ll need to breathe.”
Once again my aged client had shown me up, but in an even bigger way than before. He was dedicated to staying active and though I’ve never seen or heard from him since, I’m sure he’s still around. Or I hope, at least.

I opened one today. I had the first sips as I began to write this. It seemed fitting that it should spark such clear memories and that I should write them down while they still fluttered in my mind’s eye, one of many pleasurable memories my beloved clients create with me. The wax was difficult to remove and I prayed that the intervening years hadn’t spoiled it. It is delicious.

Screening

Our community has been hit. Screening has always been an issue for both clients and providers. You, our client, don’t know if you can trust us or our digital security. You don’t know if we’re manipulative, law enforcement, or just careless but you trust us (or not) because this industry is overall pretty great (or not, depending on your experience). We don’t know if you’re illiterate, hyper cautious, or a serial rapist but we trust you (or not) because this industry is overall pretty great (or not, depending on your experience). After TRB, MyRedBook, and RentBoy among others went down in multi-agency law enforcement efforts and it became known that KGirlDelights’ client database (complete with legal names) was in the hands of the law, clients were even more reluctant to share personal information with potential providers.

I completely understand this attitude and I don’t blame clients for being careful and skeptical. You should be. But so should I. There are a lot of conversations on review boards and community forums about screening and generally, clients want to remain anonymous while providers want as much info as they can get. One of the reasons I fight for the decriminalization of all sex work is so that I and my sisters can demand your full legal name, every time, and you have no legitimate reason to deny us. That may sound harsh, but let me illustrate part of my reasoning.

One of my sisters was raped recently. I won’t go into the details aside from that she was explicit in denying a particular act multiple times, the client put her in a compromising position, violated that denial of consent, and then apologized. Whether or not his apology is heartfelt, he obviously does not accept boundaries as boundaries and should not be allowed to see sex workers, or anyone else for that matter, in the future. However, we have no recourse other than a community wide warning against an email address and a username. We have no name to take to law enforcement, and even if we did she has the double shame of being the survivor of a particularly devastating sexual assault AND being a ‘woman of questionable character’. She would, should she have pressed charges, have been dragged, verbally and publicly, through her assault multiple times as her character was disparaged and her status as a sex worker exposed. This helps NO ONE except her rapist. Under decriminalization, this vulnerable young woman would be able to work with a mentor to prevent such situations, ask this gentleman for personal ID in order to hold him accountable, and hopefully remove one of many compromising layers that smother rape survivors.

The men who ran the Korean Sex Worker ‘trafficking’ ring will likely get a few months in jail, a fine, and a slap on the wrist. They are embarrassed and hugely inconvenienced, albeit unnecessarily in my opinion, by their deep and arrogant involvement with the management side of prostitution. Patronizing a prostitute, however, is a gross misdemeanor*. A few months, a few thousand, and a highly embarrassing situation (or quiet plea deal, whichever) is your most likely consequence**. You, the client, don’t need to worry about being murdered or raped (though the rare robbery aided by management does happen I hear). I understand your reluctance to risk the embarrassment, cost, and potential loss of employment IF your information is uncovered. Please understand the risk your provider is taking by allowing you, on the word of other providers alone, to come into her home, get her naked, and lie down together. Please understand why some providers demand personal information. Please understand the courtesy your provider does for you by allowing you to maintain your anonymity. Please understand why most charge for meet and greet screening and STILL ask for ID. Please treat her with patience and respect because she is willing to risk her personal safety so you can avoid embarrassment. Please provide her with the information she asks for. Please say please and thank you.

My heart goes out to this young woman, naïve and trusting, who allowed this man, on the recommendation of others, into herself and was painfully violated as reward for her trust. Please remember this the next time you find yourself frustrated by the time and effort it takes to pass screening and understand why some screening methods are simply unacceptable to some of us. I takes one risks because usually people are pretty great and because this is my job and I need to pay the bills. Fortunately I am privileged and experienced enough to avoid the greatest risks, but we are not all so blessed.

Please consider donating to SWOP Seattle for their untiring efforts to educate, decriminalize, and hear all members of our community, not just those of us who are most fortunate. Should you prefer to make a more personal donation, consider booking next time Ms Savanna Sly***, SWOP USA president, tours in Seattle, or with Sola Love or Sol Finer, both critical members of SWOP Seattle, or next time you and I meet you can donate through me and I will make sure it gets where it needs to go.

*SWOP fought the legislation that changed patronizing a prostitute from a misdemeanor to a gross misdemeanor. We won the first time around but not when it was reintroduced this year. We fight for you, too.
**Hiding your identity will not help you should you be arrested in a sting. Stop-and-identify laws in Washington state require you to produce ID if you are under reasonable suspicion of a crime. Answering an ad for prostitution is, unfortunately, grounds for reasonable suspicion and you will be required to identify yourself and produce ID. If it is not on you, I assume they will simply detain you until you provide your name verbally or your lawyer provides your ID as you are, once again, under reasonable suspicion. Also, stings tend to be day-of events. Book a day or two ahead the first time you meet a provider and that MAY decrease the likelihood of being involved in a sting. Also never agree to pay a set amount of money for a set service, either verbally or via text/email and NEVER (I really shouldn’t have to say this) agree to see a provider who admits they are under the age of 18!!
***Savanna is a ProDomme but if you prefer more delicate delights she offers FBSM and she and I would be happy to duo with you.

 

 

Update: Sure enough: a few weeks after posting this, there was a sting at a fake rub and tug establishment in the University district. There was no screening involved and, surprise, surprise, over 200 potential and actual clients got arrested. Avoiding screening does not mean avoiding Law Enforcement.

Rev: Duo with Iris Anelito and one lucky hunk

LOCATION: My place, but she has a place in Belltown
DATE: Last Thursday, June 9
NAME: Iris Anelito
INCALL/OUTCALL: My incall, but she has one, too
AGENCY OR INDY: I can’t imagine her needing anyone else
ACCURATE PICTURE: Yes ~ Her face is even more beautiful than the figure seen in her photos
AGE: Mid thirties, timeless
PERSONALITY: Perceptive, intelligent, wise, deliberate, sensuous… All I could want in a woman
RACE: Asian American, with the best of both worlds
BODY TYPE: Petite, slender yet feminine.
WEIGHT: I’m terrible at this part, but if I’m 135, she must be 115 or 120?
HEIGHT: Shorter than me!! That never happens, haha 🙂 but not by much, only an inch or two.
BUST: Perky, responsive, used to great effect
WAIST: Slender and fit, gently curved both up and down.
HIPS: Again, gently curved and firm.
HAIR: Black and close-cropped, framing a small, sensuous face
EYES: Dark, shouldering, inviting
FEET: Clean and petite, painted, sure
SKIN TONE: Amber honey, ripe olives, smooth to the touch
TRIMMING: Polished
TATTOOS: Beautiful, feminine ink flanking her hips and arcing up her back. Very visually appealing, enhancing her already toned curves.
SCARS: None that I noticed
PIERCINGS: I didn’t notice anything other than ears
MOLES: Nothing remarkable
BIRTHMARKS: Nothing noticeable
CLOTHES: Very professional one piece business attire, knee high teal socks, distinct absence of bosom support 😉
GLASSES: None
MOANER OR A SCREAMER: She had more… tactile occupations for her mouth
ENERGY LEVEL DURING THE SESSION: I’m having difficulty describing it. Not low energy, for sure, but not high energy either. Like embers, hotter than fire but hidden under a dampening layer of warm ash. All three of us were totally absorbed in the slow burn.
MULTI SHOTS DURING THE HOUR: Start with one and see if you feel the need to try for another. I’m willing to bet you’ll need a very long nap first, haha!
ACCEPTS FRENCH: FBSM only
SMOKES: I don’t think so
DRINKS: I’m sure she would but they were on their lunch breaks so unfortunately not this time.
KISSES: Oh. My. God. I haven’t been so stricken by a first kiss since I first kissed my current partner over three years ago. Soft, sweet, slooooow, erotic, arousing….. I can’t even describe
FRENCH: FBSM only
GREEK: FBSM only
RUSSIAN: She’s REALLY good with her hands 😉
DO’s or DON’T’s: DO read her website and go see her! She has a full personal life so take care to make a good first impression.
WEB-SITE: http://www.irisblooms.com
SCREENING PROCESS: For this duo I had a good regular to introduce to her. For her screening, see her website.
PHONE: She will provide at her discretion
RATES: 250/hour, 375/90 minutes, 500/2 hours, 700/3 hours (with nibbles and chatting)
RECOMMEND: Wholeheartedly!
COMMENTS: Some of you have already heard me say that women are like Cinnamon: a great addition to any dish but you wouldn’t want to eat a spoonful by itself. I like women as an enhancement and addition to heteronormative interactions but women by themselves don’t physically arouse me….. Until Thursday. Some combination of her soft, smooth, olive skin, her exquisite, teasing kisses, her brilliance, her full contact and the way her eyes smouldered at both of us… If sexual energy could be quantified, she would be the wealthiest woman in the world.

Traffic made her a bit later than she wanted to be, so the two of them accidentally walked in together. He with a big grin on his face, her wearing her shining, knowing smile. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on both of them, so it was only a few minutes before I stood behind him, she in front, our hands working together to undo buttons from collar to belt. Exquisitely slowly and yet in no time flat, we all shed our clothes and moved from the living room into the massage room and we laid him down on my table. Four warm hands smoothed fragrant oil over his back, his legs, from shoulder to toe. The details are fuzzy, as was my brain, but I remember her leaning over him to kiss me, I remember all our hands on each other, I remember her kisses and his kisses and their kisses and all our hearts racing and breath coming fast and heavy. I don’t remember when we turned him over, only that it felt like the right time. I remember he and I both so completely taken by the sexual power and energy that we couldn’t think or speak, only feel, only touch. I remember that she seemed like the only one of us who had any presence of mind left when he and I finally got our legs under us and started to get cleaned up! If the expression on my face was anything like his, then I looked dazed and useless for the rest of the day, haha!

I love duos, but I’ve never been in such a deeply arousing duo session before. Danielle and I chat and giggle and I just try to keep up. Adelle and I are focused on you and your pleasure enjoying each other enjoying you. Lauren and I are hands on massage therapists. Numina and I give and take, both still learning from each other. Iris and I…. I’m like a little puppy, following her, begging for more kisses and more time. She split her time perfectly between he and I, I felt, though I would have happily spent hours in her thrall. I highly recommend a get together with her, seriously.

Branding

I had a long time regular tell me that my marketing strategy was unusual. When I asked what he meant he referred to my Twitter feed and blog posts, most of them about how much I appreciate my clients and my work. I realized that, because my attitudes are part of me, and I am my brand, publishing my attitudes was building my brand. I hadn’t thought of it that way before; I started talking about how overwhelmingly great my clients are because I realized just how rare that attitude was. I thought, because of my experience with the (egregiously exclusive but also very kind to its members) TRB community, that everyone felt that way about their clients. Certainly that’s how it seemed. But after socializing with my peers a bit (and reading up on TNA threads) I realized that feelings ranged from deeply appreciative to actively angry.

I do not wish to dismiss my colleagues’ stories or feelings. Many, particularly minorities, have been treated poorly not only by clients but by civilian men and even friends or family. I cannot imagine the strength and professionalism it takes to give a client great service when in truth all you feel is anger or fear, or even emotions as mundane as boredom. Their stories do NOT inspire contempt or feelings of elitism. On the contrary, I am humbled by the sheer willpower of colleagues who have experienced nothing but abuse and contempt from the men in their lives and yet persevere for their families or for themselves in the face of PTSD or worse.

But I am a sponge, soaking up the attitudes of those around me. I am a chameleon, adapting my mood to my companions without even knowing it. If I recognize that one of my colleagues is venting* I can listen and empathize. However, after that I need to take care of my self and my own attitude. That positivity, that appreciation, shouted into the void (or Tweeted. Whatever) is partially a response to the end demand movement which claims my clients are evil and exploitative and partially me taking care of my own mind.

It is said that you need ten complements to counteract a negative statement and so, after any venting, I try to make sure that I recognize the overwhelmingly pleasant, respectful, kind, humorous, appreciative, sexy, sensual, well-intentioned, enthusiastic, responsive, intelligent, communicative, willing nature of my truly beloved clients. Because where one client is pushy, a dozen need invitation. Where one is entitled, scores are polite. Where one is blacklisted, hundreds are welcome back with open arms. This isn’t a marketing strategy, though that might be a great side effect, this is me protecting myself, using you, my beloved client, your joy and admiration, your laughter and passion, as a shield against that anger and apathy of the world.

*Venting: recounting a specific, negative incident in order to diffuse negative feelings and receive social support. “This client was pushy and it bothered me” Different from bitching: General, sometimes constant, complaining about nonspecific behaviors. “I hate it when clients are pushy!”

By Any Other Name

My sincerest apologies to those of you who have been surprised by my new assistant Rose. I’ve been terribly, delightfully busy for the last few weeks and she and I have been coordinating and learning and running around trying to help you and me and her all fit together well. I’ll tell the whole story soon but the long and short of it is that I got busy, not only busy but I developed an aversion to answering emails, particularly from new people. Screening was like pulling teeth in some cases and even minor lapses in communication caused me to respond with sharp words, or at least thoughts. It got to the point that a dozen little irritations colored every experience. I was so sensitized to petty things that I sometimes didn’t notice my own mistakes. I’m not normally easily irritable in general, so what happened?

What happened was my own thoughts; I spent too much time dwelling on negative interactions. Partly because there were enough new inquiries that weren’t consistent or complete and still needed attention but mostly because I had spent too much time reading ABOUT things that annoy people. Three threads in particular confirmed my decision to avoid the discussion threads on TNA.

The first, titled ‘what keeps a provider OFF your to do list?’, invited negative feedback by its very syntax. It was specifically asking for people to list negative behaviors. The sister thread, ‘what keeps a hobbyist OFF your to do list?’ was similarly worded to invite descriptions of bad behavior. When it occurred to me how inherently negative they were, I started my own, titled ‘What gets someone ON your to do list?’ I was proud of the first round of replies, people responding with appreciation for and positive comments on great treatment they had received in the past that made them want to see a provider or a client. And yet even that had a short life. One of my beloved clients responded, complementing me on the question and my general behavior, and was immediately passive-aggressively insulted by one of my friends. That was my last straw. I had been debating to myself a severe restriction of my TNA consumption and this was simply the nail in the coffin. I check up every once in a while to see what’s being said but in general I’ve shifted my attention elsewhere. While the first two threads are regularly bumped to the top of the discussion page, the third, doomed question fell farther and farther behind, buried under graphic images, rants, and petty bickering.

After limiting my TNA intake and giving Rose the responsibility for scheduling, my feelings of appreciation and positivity have gone through the roof. I am excited as fuck for my sessions and the quality has been steadily improving. There are several other contributors to my emotional success and sustainability but at the moment, Rose’s prompt, professional assistance, clear communication, and enterprising initiative is number one. Limiting my TNA exposure helped, but Rose’s aid over the last few weeks has been that last leg supporting my positivity. Numina Faye was with me as Rose began to tackle my inbox and I watched my notifications slowly dwindle. She watching with envy as the constant, low level stress of unread emails slipped away and I could focus on our time together (naked. In the hot tub).

I mentioned legs and support and such things and I wanted to give a shout out to some of my other supportive sisters. Numina and I spent a few days in Portland and in every work related conversation we both shared such pleasure and appreciation for our work that, though I was socially worn out by the time I got home (I know, socially worn out? ME? Haha), It was a happy glow kind of worn out. Sofina and I had dinner last week and again, work related conversation was overwhelmingly appreciative of our support systems, our beloved clients, and the astonishing realization that we might be in the minority in our attitudes. Adelle is consistently grounded, having trod this trail before me and made many of the same discoveries. I walk away from our every interaction feeling reassured, determined, satisfied, heartened, and loved. Danielle is a constant reminder of how lucky we are to share an industry that is constantly new, full of the most incredible people, always prodding us to grow in ourselves, and always a source of unrestrained enthusiasm. Savanna Sly*, lioness among lambs, exposes herself to social and political danger on my behalf and yours, bestowing and commanding respect wherever she goes, teaching the infant activist in me and sharing my respect for and appreciation of our beloved clients. Claire, so new to this world but already so perceptive, learning and growing and filling my incall with the most amazing positive vibes. Me, lucky to have so many colleagues who share my outlook, who lift me and support me as I lift and support them in turn.

*Savanna, for those who don’t know, is the SWOP-USA president and one of my most respected colleagues and activists. Others may make more noise, others may be more specialized, but Savanna is a connector, able to build bridges, listen and truly hear, and help shape national energy in the coming movement towards decriminalization. If you, beloved client, want us both to meet safe from legal or social punishment, please book an appointment with her (she does ProDomme and FBSM work) or if you can’t, donate to her living expenses/SWOP-Seattle/SWOP-USA. She’s only a visitor to Seattle but I can put you in contact if you wish.

Updates as of 5.21.16

Updates!!! So much has been happening of late that I thought even those of you who don’t receive my newsletter may want to know what I’ve been up to.

Most recently: I went to Portland! The nubile and buxom Numina Faye consented to join me on my Portland Venture. It was what I would consider a success but I’ll still be trying different timing next time. I went Monday through Thursday and I think next time I’ll try Thursday evening through Monday and see what changes. Our lovely hostess shared her home in absentia and we enjoyed her hot tub, enclosed and screened off from the neighbors; I don’t think we wore clothes almost the whole time we were actually home. The only problem was that I wanted to get some great photos and all I got was the one ‘selfie’ after she let me give her the simplest of manicures.

I’ve had emails sitting in my inbox from as long ago as February and I sincerely apologize both to my potential clients and my pocketbook. Anyone sending me an appointment request will meet with the professional skills of Rose, my new Email manager. I wanted to say something so no one is too terribly surprised. I still look at it and I will continue to answer any social missives (as best I can). Those of you who feel seriously uncomfortable with someone else being involved can reach me via my private phone number you received in my directions but I do not save phone numbers so you will have to identify yourself every time and give me some context and even then no promises. She and I are still working out scheduling kinks so please bear with us but so far things have been sleek and smooth. This means that new friends and those looking for closer to last minute appointments will be better attended, something I have begun to slack on because…

I’m becoming more of an activist and community organizer!! I’ve begun helping with SWOP (the sex workers outreach project, reached via www.SWOP-SEATTLE.org) and some of their outreach and activism as well as simply gathering an intimate group of colleagues and evolving my own view of my work. More to come there.

I’ve had some major family upheaval including weddings, moves, and some very interesting conversations. My family is quite conservative and sometimes their political leanings pain me but they are truly good people, the kind of Christians I imagine Christ himself would gently, lovingly accept despite their flaws. Very much the Samaritan, not-stone-the-woman types. My family exposure reminded me of a book I heard of recently: Chester Brown’s ‘Mary Wept at the Feet of Jesus’. One of my beloved clients gave me the opportunity to read Brown’s graphic novel while in Portland and it sparked a few interesting thoughts. As a former Protestant my religious education was long running and pervasive. Brown’s religious education is far more in depth and less About studying the Bible alone versus studying it along with all the things that have been said about it. There are several things I would have changed, first among them being the placement of his extensive notes. The cartoons are unimaginative and disengaging, particularly for some one who knows the stories already. They may have been more engaging first, if they were simply more; more dialogue, more images, etc and second, if they were preceded or immediately followed by his analysis. That analysis was by far the most interesting part of the volume. I loved the succinct yet thorough analysis of parables and stories and his theory regarding Matthew’s genealogy was certainly intriguing, but overall the book as a form of entertainment was kind of blah. I still plan to read his memoir, ‘Paying for it’ because it’s a client story which I am so interested in. He’s a Christian who voluntarily and, it sounds like, respectfully saw sex workers for over a decade and wrote about it; how can I not want to read that!?!

Aside from that the only major updates are: things are good. Life is good, business is good,the weather has been weird but before that it was good, the future looks good, everything looks pretty, well, good 🙂 Thank you, as usual, for being part of the good.

Oh, and Old Cowboy has made it safely through surgery and is at home, still recovering but in good spirits! 🙂

Musing on family and religion

After a week of arguing politics and religion with my ultra conservative yet oddly welcoming family, I found the mention of Chester Brown’s new graphic novel particularly interesting. It appeared on my Twitter feed and I read a few short articles about it. It’s called Mary Wept Over Jesus’ Feet and it’s look at biblical texts from the perspective of a religious historian. It appears to challenge quite a few mainstream assumptions, most intriguingly the one where Jesus’ feet were his actual feet, not his cock. Jesus spent his time among people such as I, preaching ‘why can’t we all just stop killing each other?’ I, personally resonate with the story of Christ’s life and with much of the biblical wisdom set side-by-side with racism and mysogyny; an alternative look at the biblical stories would be both interesting and refreshing. Hint to a certain tome manager ;-P

My recent socializing with my family brought back all sorts of memories and feelings from when I was growing up. I once again feel incredibly fortunate to be accepted by my family, at least the ones that matter, despite my opposing viewpoints. My mother and I, in fact, enjoy rousing discussions with one another, always learning from each other and ending every disagreement with a reinforcement of our love and respect for each other. I sometimes feel bad for everyone else watching because my mother is very well read and self educated and I am very quick to leap from idea to idea so our dialogue is constantly evolving, staying on an idea long enough to explain it but moving faster than many of my family members can follow. I also love that she absorbs ideas and lets them churn over time so she will revisit something we talked about six months ago and have new insights to share.

That perception is also dangerous; she knows me so well that she strongly suspects the true nature of my work. I wish I could invite her to see it from my perspective, to acknowledge the healing and meaning I often find and give in my work but to her she sees only destruction, deceit, shame, and the slow surrendering of my soul.

I’m. Not sure why I’m sharing this. It’s quite personal and if she read this… Hi, Mom. I hope you read the rest of my blog, too, and I hope it opens your eyes to my world. My beautiful, weird world full of adoration, kindness, authenticity, joy, anger (at laws keeping me from doing good while doing well), and fear (that I will be found out and all I’ve worked for will be lost.)