Apparently one of you is this psycho:



Of course my pinned tweet says in plain unvarnished English ***if you send me 150 bucks*** you're subscribing to my private subscription account. But somehow something got lost in translation and "follow your blog for free" served as a replacement for "send me 150 bucks" in his mind. Because who needs money to survive, lol, certainly not you and literally everyone else on the planet. I'm running a passion project here.


End result this, times two (the second time after I explained on top of my pinned tweet already being self-explanatory):


No money. Cool. I'll just eat tree bark while I take daily pics and videos to further "intrigue" him.




Anyway...


His tweet tab: All me!

Who he follows: Just a bunch of celebrities... and little ole me!!



Well, maybe he at least "liked" some other things?


NOPE. ALL ME.


This isn't a compliment. This is fucking creepy, you creep.



I literally have PTSD and still have my life upended by... a stalker!! That's how everything that happened to me happened, a FUCKING STALKER. So ya know what really really REALLY turns me on? Being FUCKING STALKED SOME MORE.



Setting aside how utterly creepy this all is, if you were SO "intrigued" and singularly enamored with me, it's beyond wild that you can't spare 150 bucks, you weird shadowy skin suit wearing creep.


Oh and if you were someone I legitimately knew (I don't believe for a minute based on current evidence that you are), maybe try FUCKING SAYING SO, instead of replying to my tweets with creeper bullshit and at one point just the letter A (wtf). People are always less creeped out by accounts that have actual bios and avatars and background pics and other interests than they are by @hotnhorny580937, especially when the timeline is nothing but a stalker shrine with monosyllabic creep replies. (And yes, per your last page-cluttering reply guy nonsense, it's "only 15 seconds" because it's an AD for the thing you're supposed to PAY for. Literally how ads work.)


Well here we are at the start of probably the biggest economic collapse in history, with an estimated year and a half of socializing and businesses being shut down (if you listen to scientists instead of politicians you know how long this will actually drag on). And I have to stop offering in-person appointments, which frankly have been debt, not positive column income, for quite some time anyway. I've gone 30K in the hole basically offering a "loss leader" for the past few years (mostly since BP was seized) hoping to "build up" even more "established regulars". Even before BP was seized they'd taken preemptive steps in 2017 to try to avoid the inevitable and closed the escort section (too many FSSWers had been flagrantly violating TOS with explicit content that was bound to create more problems). That's when escorts stampeded into the massage categories, tossing "rub" and "massage" everywhere like meaningless throwaway words. The whole concept of FBSM became muddied, watered down, less respected than it even was before (and I didn't think that was possible). It's been an uphill battle I've been losing since 2017, and three years is too long to fight.


So I don't know if I'll ever return to FBSM.


It's always been called "just massage" by clients speaking directly to me ("Oh, you offer 'just massage'") and treated as "just massage" by the entire community. TER always had a maximum of 7 out of 10 points for "just massage", so of course that policy took root in people's minds. On boards like USASG guys will call each other "simps" and "suckers" for getting "just massage". In the rate structure you can see how people feel about "just massage": pricing full service sex work is like pricing art in that you're only limited by your sheer bombasity. There are escorts only charging 100 or 200, but then there are a ton of other (not necessarily more gorgeous or talented but with better lighting and makeup and "marketing") women advertising things like "2000 minimum". I mean, good for them. Seriously. I'm genuinely not mad that they're making bank. What I am sick of is how in comparison FBSM is considered "just massage", so there's this tiny, finite window for rates, and you can't go above that ceiling. You can be touring in the middle of high season after being begged to be back in a big city, and the rooms are all 300 a night and up (pre-tax, which is typically 30% more), but you're expected to pay that just the same as the woman getting 2000 minimum. And nobody wants to take even two seconds to do that basic math and see it doesn't work. Basic math makes penises soft. Sorry if my struggle just to keep a roof over my head was a penis softener.


True story: a "budget" hotel outside Boston a couple of summers ago cost me 150 a night before tax, so nearly 200. And I still got to hear the pregnant-with-meaning pauses and throat clearing and "um well uh, wow, that's a budget place" as if it wasn't a perfectly respectable chain in a very nice neighborhood and spotlessly clean. It didn't have cachet though, you see. Taj Mahal expectations at FBSM rates, yet tips were always a rarity and small when they happened. Honestly I won't miss this impossible to walk tightrope.


So I'm going to try online content now, like everyone else. I would have always done this, but besides privacy there was one big thing that held me back: FBSM doesn't translate into sexy videos (besides not being all that involved, you can't massage air), so online content has to be more explicit. And as soon as guys see explicit they tend to think "ooh that's on the menu ooh can we do that ooh that's what I want". Let me be clear: if I post explicit content, I'm probably retiring permanently from FBSM, because I've already spent years having boundary pushers beg and grab and do things like lick my waist. It's a constant please no please no please no struggle that is the opposite of a turn on, and having already endured that forever I'm not blurring the lines when guys already had this nonsensical notion that there was some secret door they could pass through that led straight to my pussy. It's not been a long con spanning decades that's only now coming to fruition.


And yes, I am innately sexual. I've never been mechanical, so I don't really fit in today's world. The current era of people slamming into each other like desperate, coked up rabbits has been so uninspiring that I've not missed much. I was always sex. I didn't "do" sex. I was sex. Like a hammerhead swimming smoothly, seeing in all directions, looking for the next butt I wanted to nibble LOL (I was always the pursuer even when it seemed otherwise, so being coerced during appointments has always felt less like my walls being scaled and more like being bothered by a mosquito). I've always been attractive but wasn't typically the flashy person you'd focus your attention on first. I was the one who'd quietly turn you inside out once I got a hold of you, and then you'd never be the same. I've been overlooked in a lot of ways the past several years because everybody's obsessed with the visual: things like "being an influencer" and contouring (women applying drag show STAGE makeup to attract middle aged insurance salesmen, because sure). People forgot how to close their eyes and feel. If you're a woman actually sure of yourself then it's taken to mean you should dress up in some vinyl jumpsuit and name yourself "Goddess Europa" or some shit. Everything is a caricature. Everybody's "marketing" and saying things like "fake it till you make it", and no client ever sees that in a tweet and realizes "Hey wait, if they're faking it then they're faking it with me". (They never reach a point where they've "made it" and stop "faking it", by the way.) By every measure it's been a superficial century so far, and my sensuality has always been true and deep. I don't wear it, I am it. That energy may translate to video, but it won't be provided in appointments, because my energy has to meet equal energy or it becomes a pointless farce. Me horizontally dancing like Salome in a psychedelic dream but crashing into maniacal bucking and poking would be good for nobody involved. And quality control is only one reason to decline. So it looks like it's going to have to be making videos as it can't be both. A virus made the choice for me.


And now that I'm sharing all this, can I just say something about providers and women in general and how we really feel about being "turned on"? Sure, for marketing purposes escorts sit on social media and talk about HOW TURNED ON OMG they are by clients. That's their job. Their job is to pretend that's the case whether it is or not. But we all know, even men, that to be truly turned on you have to be in love. Past the age of 25 it takes more than skin and muscle to create arousal. Some men and most women can't orgasm until they're in a deeply connected, trusting relationship and can, over time, let their guard down. When I date someone it takes weeks to get to that point. I say this because that means if I have casual sex I will not have an orgasm. No, that thing you do with your tongue that makes you such a unique, skillful lover isn't actually going to get me there, so please stop telling me about it like it's an offer I can't refuse. Drive-by dick does not leave an adult woman (who's really being honest) fulfilled. Now imagine if you, a man, routinely had sex where you were left unfinished. Would I be able to bait you with promises of even more of that hot non-orgasmic sex? Would you be jumping up and down screaming YES YES MORE PLEASE if you literally never got off? I don't get wet by purely physical advances. In other words, no tingling feeling, no engorgement (yes, women's genitals get engorged just like dicks, plenty of time to learn some basic anatomy and physiology during quarantine). I get NO arousal from purely physical interaction. AT ALL. How fun would it be for you if women grabbed and begged and cajoled you for sex when you knew you'd never get off and you were constantly flaccid? Maybe there's another dimension where women are grabbing men constantly and saying "you know I do this really great thing with my tongue" while guys are just hanging limp and wishing they could get out of there and go get a grilled cheese.


Adult providers are real people. Flesh and blood humans. I have corneas and white blood cells and everything. We want to be cherished and loved like regular humans. If you work in a pizza place, the last thing you want is someone asking you out on a date to a different pizza place. Adult providers don't have any shortage of offers of casual dick. So offering me even more hit and run dick? Tempting, but again I'm going to have to pass.


So what does "turn me on" you ask?


Going to a party not expecting to meet anyone then suddenly I catch his eye from across the room.


Oh god is he looking at me too?


Is he or isn't he? Is he coming over here? Oh Jesus do I have spinach on my teeth? Is he still looking this way? Who did he come here with? Chris, do you know this guy?


Why yes I am free on Saturday.


Gosh I had so much fun tonight (are we going to kiss) I'd love to do this again sometime (are we going to kiss) yes I wish we could stay out later too, but I have to get up in the morning (are we going to kiss)


Hi again I had so much fun last week (omg I kinda want his hand down my shirt)


Wow the last few weeks have been so much fun (is that a bulge in his pants is it time for this)


In other words, there's anticipation involved. A lack of a "sure thing". As a flesh and blood human being, I enjoy literally the same slowly unfolding, could-go-either-way starts-fully-clothed edge-of-your-seat mysteries as every other human being. In fact, I grieve not having it more, because society has decided that's the thing I don't deserve as an adult provider. People think I don't deserve taking things slow or romance or commitment or deep abiding true love. If you're trying to sell someone on something (you getting laid), you should really know your audience (someone who only wants for lasting meaningful connection because dick is everywhere). Standing next to a massage table was never a "turn on". People in the Arctic don't need ice delivered. Things were never going to "move to the bed". No, I haven't been celibate all these years because I'm a "prude". It's because as a pretty unique, complex human I require magic to spontaneously lubricate.


And no I'm not describing "getting to know each other better" over the course of several massage appointments. I'm not talking about "appointments" at all. I'm talking about relationships. Like the one you probably have at home. If I enjoy my own company on video, that will never translate into "can we do that when we meet". The answer is preemptively no. No need to ask or wonder.


So bye from FBSM for now. I'm already starting to see grumblings on Twitter like "gosh I really could use a massage right now". I even had a blog post here titled "you won't know what you had till it's gone", so it's going to be pretty funny seeing these tweets all year. For years I've been considered less valuable than literally any escort, and now suddenly everybody is going to want massage because they're going to need that combination of physical bodywork and nurturing (and getting begrudgingly delivered 5 minute limp-wristed "rubs" from your better half is only going to bring into sharp relief the difference between that and real massage). It's like being the grocery clerk who everybody suddenly realizes has a hell of a lot more value than some consultant. It would have been great if everybody had these epiphanies at any point prior to a pandemic when no one can meet, And sure, I see the tweets about "what lessons are we going to learn from this pandemic", but come on, as a society we never learn a damn thing. Gore Vidal said it best when he called us the United States of Amnesia. As soon as everybody's free to move about freely again they'll be taking FBSM providers for granted again. Hopefully I never have to return to FBSM, because as much as I love nurturing and touching, I'm decades tired of being treated like a second class citizen in SW circles.


@V_luxe on Twitter, if you want to see me try to hide in the woods while the world burns.

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