A French-speaking client in Zurich contacts me. He describes himself as a 53-year-old businessman, very successful, great reputation in business, blah blah blah… and he asks me:
“I want a woman who’s a slut, a dirty girl, a whore, a filthy one. A woman to make you vibrate: I’m going to give you an orgasm that will blow your mind.”
He sent me about seven audio messages, repeating at least ten times that I have to be very slutty and very dirty, just in case I didn’t get it. He kept repeating it.
Once, okay, to explain himself, I can understand it. Twice, okay, in case I didn’t catch it. But more than three times, it becomes irritating.
Do I really have to listen to that kind of language from someone I don’t even know just because I’m a sex worker?
We use words that, depending on how they’re said and who says them, can be offensive. And that’s where respect shows. Respect between people, no matter their background, religion, or money.
When something starts to bother someone, don’t repeat it a thousand times. It feels like: I’m going to pay you, so you have to accept it.
That person is trying to buy your integrity, not your services. And he doesn’t care what you think; what matters is him.
Then he starts throwing numbers around: €75,000, 15 days away, a luxury nudist campsite in Corsica. As if that should impress me.
As if that were the point. And when I don’t play along, when I don’t enter his fantasy, when he sees I’m not for sale, he sends me an angry audio saying I’m not on his level. That I should stick to clients in the €200-€300 range. That he’s on another level.
And that’s when I ask myself: who’s really not on the level here?
Because for me, the least attractive thing in a client… is money. Money doesn’t turn me on. Money doesn’t spark my curiosity. Money doesn’t make me desire anyone.
If money is the most important thing for you, fine. Go find a woman for whom that’s what matters most. But don’t come telling me I’m not on your level. Because to be on the level of a woman like me, money is not what’s needed. What’s needed is: respect, presence, knowing how to speak, knowing how to relate, and above all, emotional intelligence.
And that… can’t be bought; it’s cultivated.
I don’t need anyone to pay for a nudist holiday. My God… what a nightmare it would be to spend 15 days with a millionaire like that. I don’t even want to imagine it, no matter the €75,000 he claims he’d pay.
I’m not a woman you can buy with money. And the proof is there: in 15 years in this profession, I don’t have a single gift from a client worth more than €100. That says a lot.
Some might think my clients aren’t at that level. But no. It’s that I’ve never tolerated a show-off, nor taken money out of pity. I pay my own way. And those who truly have money don’t need to prove it to me.
I’m not a whore, and I’m not anyone’s whore. I’m a sex worker who loves giving and receiving orgasms. The rest belongs to imagination.
I offer a service, not myself.
It really feels like in this profession… anything goes.
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