“Though I’d been learning to embrace my life in a wheelchair—a result of cerebral palsy—going without touch, or even access to my own body, was taking a toll.”
By Andrew Gurza
By Andrew Gurza
I’d never considered the price of intimacy until I hired a sex worker. Though I’d been learning to embrace my life in a wheelchair—a result of cerebral palsy—going without touch, or even access to my own body, was taking a toll. Even so, I didn’t come to my decision lightly. I was worried about shame, stigma, and fear, and concerned I’d pay for time and still not get what I needed. I spent weeks quieting the voices in my head telling me that using the services of a sex worker was not a good idea. Would this be the only way I could find intimacy? Would someone even want to do this with me, or would he only view it as a charitable opportunity to help a cripple? Despite all these questions, I sat in my apartment reflecting on my nearly year-long celibacy. It was time to take care of myself.
After scouring site after site with rows and rows of horny men holding their hard-ons, I found David. His smile was warm, inviting, and intriguingly devious all at once. He was older than me, in his mid-40s, and his photos showed off a powerful body, a strong charisma, and an undeniable charm. I’d often felt physically invisible within the mainstream LGBT community, but David possessed everything I longed for.
I sent David a cursory email, telling him that I was interested in using his services, but that I had never done this before, that I was nervous. I also casually explained as best I could that I lived with a disability and used a chair. He emailed back some hours later, letting me know that he had experience working with clients with disabilities. David wrote bluntly: “If I’m unsure of something, I’ll just ask.” It was a refreshing change from all the guys who tripped and tumbled over their discomfort.
We ironed out the logistics—a time, a location, a fee. Knowing that my sexuality would be broken down into a succinct session was daunting, and it took away from the fantasy and spontaneity I had dreamed of. But this, perhaps, was the cost of getting what I wanted, what I needed. David gently reminded me that I was paying for his time, and whatever happened happened. On our very last exchange, just a day before we’d meet, he called and asked me a simple question, though one I have never been asked before: “What do you want?”
Shyly and nervously I outlined my likes and dislikes as well as my abilities. I wanted kissing. I craved body contact. I couldn’t bottom for him because of my spasticity and tight muscles. I’d need help undressing and being put in bed. I paused, smiled. My needs were at the forefront.
On a rainy, blustery Saturday afternoon, my iPhone blinked with the message that David was in my lobby. I looked at myself in the mirror: a long-sleeve shirt, cozy winter sweats, a baseball cap. I headed downstairs in the elevator. When the door opened, I recognized him immediately. “Hey there! How are you?” he said, giving me a big hug as if we were long-lost friends. I kept watching him, in part because I still couldn’t believe this was happening, and because he looked really good in those tight blue jeans and that leather jacket.
A sexy man was in my house. We made small talk, waiting for someone to strike. He led himself into my bedroom and asked me about the transfer device I use to get into bed. I told him he would have to lift my legs while I held on to two gymnastic rings fastened to a hydraulic lift in my ceiling. I continued babbling, watching him get closer to me, taking off his coat, revealing a tank top and thick, muscled arms. He then straddled my chair, bent down, and kissed me. As I reached and pawed at him—my limbs flailing, not wanting to miss an inch—he stopped me. He looked into my eyes, past the rejection and pain caused by other lovers, and spoke with a firm honesty. “It’s OK.”
David drank in my disability and I dared not stop him. He lifted me out of my chair and held me in his arms. He grabbed me, cradled me, and kissed me. I curled up into him so he could feel the scars, curves, rods, and contractures that inform my disability. I felt sexy. He took off my shirt, and together we revealed my skin. As he moved down my body, and took off my pants and shoes, I worried what he would do when he saw my leg bag and my toes, which curled into each other. But David made this act of care exciting and real for me. When I was finally naked with him on the bed—my body going into spastic fits as a result of CP—I started to tense even more as I neared climax. In a piercing moment of release, I felt my two identities collide: queer and crippled came together in a surge of pure, uncomplicated pleasure.
The afterglow was setting in as David lay beside me. He held me tight and kissed my forehead. He told me that I was handsome, and as I looked at his arms wrapped around my spindly legs, I felt he meant it. Moments passed and he placed me in my chair, planting one last soft kiss on my lips before ending our session and saying goodbye. As I sat alone, my adrenaline became diluted by a calming bliss. I could not shame this experience because it marked a passage greater than a fleeting carnal exchange. It was the start of my own physical assertion. I would not settle for an affectionless existence, and I had to strive to honor what I wanted as a seated, but sexually alive, man. I finally had someone see me, and regardless of the cost, I finally showed myself to someone else.
Complete Article HERE!
By Vanessa Brown
WHEN Fleur first started working in the sex industry, receiving a phone call from a parent or guardian on behalf of a potential client was “unusual”.
“It’s not an experience that many people have to go through, arranging a sexual experience on the behalf of someone else,” she told news.com.au.
Miss Fleur, as she calls herself, became a sex worker at 18. Ten years later, she’s built up a diverse client base, including many people with disabilities.
“In a lot of ways, there’s no difference,” Fleur said of her clients. “I’m dealing with adults who have a fantasy that they haven’t been able to explore. The main thing that’s different is that sometimes, but not always, appointments are facilitated through parents or carers.
“Carers listen to their clients and take their needs seriously. But it’s not that these people are arranging appointments without consent. They are doing it on the instruction of the person with the disability.”
About 4 million Australians, or one in five people, are living with a disability. More than million of these people are aged between 15 and 64.
In Australia and overseas, disability advocacy groups are trying to raise awareness about disabled people and sex.
She says the stigma surrounding the sex lives of people with disabilities is disheartening.
“It’s ridiculous. Just because someone can’t walk the same way as others, or doesn’t have the same technique to use their voice, doesn’t mean they haven’t got the same sexual desires as other people,” Ms Wotton told news.com.au.
“We are sexual human beings. How dare someone tell another person how they should or should not feel. The most beautiful thing about skin to skin contact is the idea of being.
“People need to move away from the idea that sex is intercourse. Our sexuality is expressed in many different ways,” said Ms Wotton, who has worked in the industry for more than 20 years and was featured in the documentary Scarlet Road.
Her clients live with a wide range of disabilities. One of her regulars, 61-year-old Colin Wright, came from a family that didn’t talk about sex. In the SBS documentary I Have Cerebral Palsy and I Enjoy Having Sex, Colin revealed that he found his first sexual partner through a carer.
“There was a lady who I felt close to so, one day, while we were alone, I asked Kerry if she would organise for me to visit a lady,” he told SBS. “To my surprise, straight away, she said ‘yes’.”
Ms Wotton says this is common in her line of work.
“Imagine if you had to ring your mother or carer and say ‘this is what I’d like to do, can you help me?’” Ms Wotton said.
“Imagine the fear of opening up about your sexual desires, as a middle-aged man or woman, to your family. Some of the parents have been amazing, and really work through this stigma. It’s very brave of them.”
When a carer or parent contacts a sex worker or sex work organization, they must provide the worker with complete consent from the client before the appointment can be scheduled.
“If someone’s father organises for me to see their adult son, I don’t care if he has paid me money. I’m going to make sure my client is consenting to the services,” she said.
“The only person who can give consent is the very person themselves. No one can give consent on their behalf.
“Some clients will contact me directly. Otherwise it’s parents or carers or support workers contacting on behalf of someone.”
Ms Wotton says the same protocols apply to any other service.
“It’s like any other appointment. The client is asking for available times, payment options, letting them know if it’s a home appointment and we discuss the disability of the client.
“The appointment is set up exactly the same as if they were ringing up for a dental appointment, hairdressing appointment or a tattoo,” she said.
“Of course people are nervous, because they have to speak with a sex worker and because of the myths around the industry. But once they talk to us, they see that we are general members of society like anyone else.”
Ms Wotton and her colleagues will spend a good percentage of the discussion talking about what they can and can’t do with their clients.
“There is a stigma around sex work that we will do anything. That’s not true. We are negotiating, it’s a mutually consensual adult activity,” she said.
“People often think that if they can’t verbalise yes or no, they can’t give consent. That’s just ridiculous because there are so many ways that people can communicate. There’s boards, eye movement, nodding heads, hand signals, apps and even iPads.
“We know how people consent when they understand what services and experiences they are consenting to. They have the right to withdraw consent, and that’s for the sex worker as well.
“The sexual desires of those with a disability are in line with the rest of society. It’s as far as their imaginations go.”
Fleur says more education is needed about the sex lives of disabled people.
“Adults with disabilities have all the same needs and desires as anyone else,” she said.
“I think people should take a moment to think about their own lives, and if their needs and desires would change if they became disabled. We are only a car accident away from it.”
Touching Base is a charitable organisation that requires support from the public to continue their work. More information can be found here.
Complete Article HERE!
At the end of July, Neal Falls booked an appointment with a sex worker named Heather in West Virginia. He planned to kill her, as police believe he may have murdered as many as nine other sex workers in Ohio, Illinois and Nevada. But with Heather he failed. But with Heather, finally, he failed. When he attacked her, she fought back, got his gun and killed him.
Falls’ death was national news but, as such things do, it soon faded out of the headlines. Heather, though, was still bruised and traumatized, unable to work and in difficult financial straits.
Luckily, not everyone forgot about Heather. Mistress Matisse, a writer and dominatrix in Seattle, heard about Heather’s experience and was determined to help. Through other sex workers she tracked Heather down, called her and booked a flight to West Virginia. She showed up at Heather’s door and hasn’t really left. She’s organized fund-raising, lined up medical assistance and connected Heather with nonprofit help.
This isn’t a new role for Matisse. She’s worked as a sex worker in various capacities since she was 19. But as she’s gotten established in Seattle, she says, “I have gotten to the point in my career where it is in many ways self-sustaining.”
As a result, she’s had more time to devote to activism. Matisse was there to help Heather because she’s made it her business to help sex workers who are in crises.
I talked to Matisse about her activism, her work with Heather and why sex workers are the best ones to help sex workers.
Most of your activism is independent, rather than directly working with non-profits or sex worker organizations. Why is that?
I get a lot out of sex worker organizations as a participant. I couldn’t be who I am without the sex work community. At a certain point it became clear to me that I should do sex work activism the way I do business.
I play well with others, but I’m also an introvert, and I don’t do well in people’s systems. I do well in my own system.
As a dominatrix, my work is creative. Someone is going to walk in, and you have a very short time where you sit and talk to them and kind of go, ‘What is it that you want and that you need? And how can that fit into things that I do, or am willing to do, in a way that’s creative and sexy and fun?’ In like five minutes, OK we’re doing that thing. It’s a very quick assessment. Make a plan. Make it happen. And that’s a dynamic that I do well with, and I enjoy it.
So for me what happens a lot is that I hear or see that there’s a sex worker who’s in a crisis, and I just reach out to her and say, ‘What do you need? How can I help you?’ And there’s a connection with her, and then I begin to address her needs at an individual level.
Working with an organization, you’re committed to working at a certain pace. They’re writing policy changes they want, or they’re lobbying in a very directed way to an elected official. They are process-oriented things, and I really want people to do them. It’s just that I’m not good at doing them. It just feels like slogging through mud to me.
So you’re working directly with Heather now?
Heather’s a case that moves me. My heart’s always very involved. And that’s why I like working the way I do. It’s emotionally very rewarding for me. Some people get rewarded from having written a really great policy, but that’s not rewarding for me.
I saw Heather on the news and I immediately knew — every woman who works alone, like I do, that’s the worst fear, is that you open the door to a murderer. And every time you see a new client, that thought is in your mind. I mean, I’ve opened thousands of doors over my career, to thousands of men, and crossed my fingers and hoped to God that it wouldn’t be one of those guys.
I’ve never been harmed by a client, but there have been a few cases where I have been very frightened, and that fear that you feel when you think, ‘Oh my god, is this guy going to hurt me? Am I going to be one of those girls?’ You never forget how that feels. So when I read this story…
This guy had a list of names of who he’s going after next. So Heather saved all those women’s lives. And it’s only sheer luck that the guy decided to go to West Virginia instead of Seattle. As far as I’m concerned, Heather saved my life and the lives of all the people I know in sex work, just as surely as she saved her own and the women on that list. This guy had been at it for a while. He’s a professional. So this is very emotional for me and very personal for me, and I decided that I was going to take care of it and make sure that she got everything she needed.
I started to call people (in the sex worker community) on the East Coast asking, ‘Who knows this girl? Who knows who she is? Who has met her?’ After a couple of days of calling around we came up with her phone number, so I called her and said, ‘You don’t know me, but I saw what you did and I’m a sex worker, too, and I would like to help you.’
Is it important that sex workers be the ones to reach out to help sex workers in need?
Well, for Heather, she was having a problem because there were some people local to her who had started a fundraiser for her, they said, but they were being really weird and controlling about the money. They weren’t going to let her have it unless she fulfilled certain things that they thought they should do.
They wanted her to give interviews, when she was clearly in no shape to give interviews. She told me they had bought her this dress they wanted her to wear. They wanted her to look like a nice respectable girl. They wanted to rescue her in the way, ‘We’re going to change your life. We’re going to change who you are, and we’re going to save you from this life.’
The reason that sex workers are the best people to help other sex workers is that we do it from a place of respect for the individual, and we understand that someone has to consent to being helped, at every stage of the way.
Trying to force ‘solutions’ on us that aren’t solutions just makes our lives more difficult. And most of the time, when you get a non-SW trying to help a sex worker who’s in trouble, they focus on sex work BEING the problem.
If someone wants to stop doing sex work, then we want options made available to them. But even in that situation, it’s crucial that you not shame someone who’s done sex work to survive. Like calling them a victim, even if that’s not how they identify, and focusing on how awful it must have been, asking for horror stories instead of just saying, ‘OK, so what do you want to be doing, and how can we get you there?’
I approach helping someone like I approach the BDSM scene. There’s a person here who I think wants me to take control of the situation. But you have to get consent for that. So I can say to you that I see that you’re having some trouble here, if you allow me to, I can do anything I can to alleviate these problems. Do you give me your consent to do that? Yes. You have to get the consent, and you have to go on getting the consent throughout the process.
These people wanted to get money for Heather, that’s great, but she didn’t even know them before they started doing that. And they were talking about her on the news and stuff. And they were going to hold onto the money until she did all these things they wanted her to do. What you’re doing to her she’s not consenting to, so it’s not really help.
I can look at Heather’s house, and say, moving out of here should be your first priority because a terrible thing happened here, and she’s like, ‘No, it’s not my first priority. X is my first priority.’ So that’s what we’ll do.
Do you consider your activism —helping sex workers— to be feminist activism?
The concept of feminism is kind of like the concept of God. There’s all this doctrine and dogma and stuff. And then there’s what people do. And everyone’s version of God is a little different. I’m very much in favor of a lot of the stated goals of feminism, just as I’m in favor of many of the stated goals of religion, which is be kind to other people, don’t lie and murder. It’s those ten commandment style things that I think we’re all on board with.
But mainstream feminism rejects sex work as an acceptable choice. So for me being a sex worker and being a feminist is kind of like being an immigrant who votes Republican. Even if you happen to agree with the rest of the party platform, there’s the small issue that they want to kick you out of the country. So I don’t describe myself as an adherent to a political philosophy that wants to eliminate me.
What can people do to help Heather if they’d like to contribute?
We’ve put together a crowdfund specifically to cover medical expenses; people can contribute to that here.
Complete Article HERE!
Ravishly invited me to contribute to an online conversation they are sponsoring on sex work. They allowed me 500 words.
The Conversation is in the lower right-hand corner of their site.
The question posed:
My contribution is titled: Sex Work Is!
I invite you to take a look at all the contributions and add your thoughts.
I’m just out of college and have a ton of bills and no real job prospects at the moment. A friend suggested I do some escorting to make ends meet. Guys tell me that I’m hot and I like sex, but I don’t know if I could pull it off. Suggestions?
You betcha I have suggestions…a lot of ‘em, don’t ‘cha know.
Being hot and liking sex are great assets if you decide to turn pro, but you’ll need way more than that. Being a sex worker is not like having sex for love or even having recreational sex. You will be exchanging sex for money and that makes it a business proposition. Therefore you’d be wise to approach this with as much forethought as you would any other career move. It is, after all, the world’s oldest profession.
If you do decide to set up shop, so to speak, you’ll need the capacity to have sex with a much wider range of people than if you were looking for a date. And probably just as important, when there’s an exchange of money, the john becomes your customer. And you know what they say about the customer always being right. The truth of the matter is that all pro sex is client directed. It’s not about you even when it looks like it’s all about you.
So let’s say you’re a really great fuck, fun to be with too. You’ll also need the emotional distance and psychological resilience to cope with the intimacy issues this line of work creates. This is precisely the point where most fledgling sex workers flounder. They either give too much or not enough. Some actually resent their clients for renting them. I know, this is totally absurd, but it happens all the time. This lack of clarity will cause you to have trouble establishing healthy boundaries between you and your john.
Regardless if you are a cheap street hustler turning tricks to support a drug habit or an expensive rent-boy who is servicing the rich and famous, the pitfalls are the same. A lot of sex workers are self-destructive or have huge unresolved sex issues that they try to compensate for by making people pay them for what they usually give away.
If you still think this is a line of work for you, Kevin, be aware that your mind and body are your greatest business assets. Take care of them. Nurture them. Keep them clean, fit and toned. Hygiene, both physical and mental, is a must. Body awareness, not the narcissistic type, and safe-sex practices are your frontline defense against STIs (sexually transmitted infections). Make it your business to be tested for HIV and the other common STIs on a regular (every 3-6 months) basis.
Stay clean and sober while on the job. More sex workers get busted for drugs rather than hustling. Know how to handle a drugged out client. You’ll probably see a lot of those. Know that they can take forever to get off, and can sometimes be paranoid and dangerous.
Speaking of getting busted; you know this line of work is against the law, don’t you. That of course doesn’t stop lots of people from plying their trade. But the successful ones will have their wits about them, particularly in terms of how they market themselves. Never suggest, in any forum — written or spoken, that you are offering sexual favors for money.
Be fiscally responsibility. Plan for the lean times…and there are always lean times. You’ll probably be a hot property at first; ya know the whole “new meat” phenomenon. Don’t let this go to your head. Count on there being cuter, younger, hotter competitors getting off the bus tomorrow. Try to cultivate a number of regular clients. Have a thought to how and where you will market yourself. And I fully encourage you not to do this full-time, at least not at first. If you find it difficult to meet your financial goals, you’ll be tempted to do more and more risky things just to make ends meet.
Sex work is often more about being psychologically present than a sexual performance. Your clients will often be more lonely and isolated then they are horny. Treat them with respect. Improve your mind. Make yourself interesting. Stay abreast on current affairs and the popular culture. Develop other skills like massage and bodywork.
You should have at least one trusted friend who knows your whereabouts at all times, or who has access to your appointment book. Protect yourself: use a pager or cell phone and never make a date with anyone who won’t share his/her phone number with you. Always make a call back before you head out. Keep an appointment book, in code if you must.
Carry a travel bag or backpack with you to all your “dates”. This should contain the basics: condoms, lube, massage oil, handi-wipes, toys, etc. But you should also have an extra shirt and mace (or other protective equipment). Keep all your belongings — clothing, phone, watch, and wallet — together and near your bag. Know where that bag is at all times and be ready to pick up and leave if there’s trouble.
I also suggest that you connect with other sex workers in your area. There is strength in numbers. Other rent-boys will provide you with essential information about troublesome clients and help you get the lay of the land, so to speak.