Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Audrey In Love

Spring is here and love is in the air. And there must also be something in the water because Audrey has a boyfriend. Yes, I said it. Audrey the Skank Ho Bitch has a boyfriend. AND HE'S NOT EVEN A CUSTOMER THIS TIME!!!! I'm shocked too.

She hasn't given us the full details yet, so we're going on guess work. But the funny thing is that we didn't hear it first from her, we heard it through our customers. The guys who float from girl to girl are the best sources of gossip in a massage parlor, and we're no exception. Our first clue that Audrey was seeing someone was when she stopped letting guys go down on her.

Isn't that the most romantic thing you've ever heard? I guess love means not letting groups of strangers go down on you...

That was the first complaint we started hearing a couple weeks ago. Next, we heard that she had dropped her prices - again. Selfish greedy bitch. $60 for topless and $100 for mutual. $100!!!??? But as one customer put it - "She's used and abused. I ain't touchin that shit for $100." Then just last week, a customer reported that she started offering prostate massages AT NO EXTRA COST!!!!!

(For you newbies out there, a prostate massage is basically a finger up the ass. Sounds gay, but it will give you a mind blowing orgasm - guaranteed. I don't do them for customers, but the boyfriends seem to love 'em)

I guess love means it's still OK to finger a stranger's asshole.

But that's not the icing on the cake. The real clincher here that's got us all pissed off is that we discovered that Audrey has been offering a 4th option - fully clothed hand release for $20. Apparently that's why she's had so many appointments lately. These cheap ass fuckers discovered that they can get a happy ending for $20, instead of the minimum $80 that the rest of us have been charging for a topless.

I know times are bad and we all need to eat, but come on you greedy bitch. I complain about her a lot, but I think I'm justified when you discover that your boss has been stabbing you in the back. Am I right?

Sorry guys, but I had to vent to someone other than Trina. I'll try to find out more about the boyfriend to see what kind of a loser he is. But till then, remember to tip generously!!


Thursday, April 23, 2009

The Craigstlist Killer

Have you guys been following this story? Apparently they just caught this fucker up in Boston who was preying on working girls he met on Craigslist. Is this fucked up or what? I mean, here are some poor girls just trying to make a living, and here comes this asshole who decides to make a thing out of beating, robbing and now killing them. The whole thing just makes me sick.

And to add insult to injury, the news keeps going on and on about how all these women were "sex workers" offering "erotic services" off of Craigslist. They said 1 of his victims was a stripper, and the other 2 were masseuses (including the 1 he killed). I know they need to make everything more sensational for the news, but would it have mattered any if they were just housekeepers or waitresses? And another thing I read that REALLY pissed me off implied that it was their fault for advertising their services on Craigslist!

Look, I'm no fan of Craigslist. In fact, I consider it the world's biggest Pimp Daddy for single-handedly selling more sex than anything else on the planet. But just because you advertise your particular service does not mean that you are any less deserving of protection from violence than anyone else. That is bullshit.

The other thing about this story that got to me was seeing the pictures of that smug little arrogant asshole after he was caught and pleaded not guilty. Here he is - a kid of privilege who got his kicks by attacking these poor girls who make a living on the legal fringe of society.

I can picture it too - he probably got his little dick rubbed by some girl he met on the internet. Then he figured that if he just beat the crap out of her and took his money back, what's she gonna do? What's the word of an internet hooker versus a student doctor? He probably figured he was above the law and could get away with it - that's why he did it at least 3 times. Luckily, the first 2 girls he robbed went to the police and they had already figured out it was him by the time he murdered the 3rd girl.

I've met this type before. Privileged rich kids who think their shit don't stink. Thank Gawd, we don't have too many of that type around here since we're mostly rednecks. But once in a while I'll get that customer who thinks you're nothing more than a whore and he treats you as such. Now in case you haven't been reading my blog very long, you haven't figured out yet that I have a very short fuse. I have a very low tolerance for assholes, and zero tolerance for arrogant assholes. More than once I've thrown guys out just for their attitude. And to make things more fun for me, I know exactly what buttons to press to make these guys feel 2 inches tall by the time they're out the door.

So here's to you Mr. Craigslist Killer... I hope you rot in jail for a long time and end up as the Bitch to a gang of very large convicts who think you have a pretty mouth. I'll bet money that you won't be thinking of picking on poor little masseuses while you're being ass-raped for the 3rd time during your daily shower. I'd tell you to go fuck yourself, but I'm sure your cellmates Bubba and Tiny will do that for you.


Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Freak of the Week - The Peeping Tom

Not too long ago, a girlfriend of mine from another business warned me about a new thing to watch out for (as if we don't have enough to worry about already). Apparently with all these new phones with built in cameras and video recorders, customers have been trying to secretly tape their sessions.

As soon as I heard about it, I tried experiementing with a customers phone. The deal is that a customer will hide his phone in a shirt pocket with just the lens poking out. And while he's alone in the room he'll turn it on and just let it go for the entire session. We tried it a few times with the lights on and turned down. I was shocked at how much you could actually see, even with the lights turned down.

My friend warned me to watch for the tell-tale signs of a peeping tom:

1) Suspicious placement of clothing on a chair or elsewhere in room.
2) Customer lies on table in wrong direction.
3) Customer asks for lights to be left on or turned up.
4) Furniture or items that have been moved.

Well, I got one the other day. He was a new customer, but I could tell he was familiar with the whole massage thing. When I entered the room I knew something was weird. We have lockers in the rooms, so the customers can put their personal things away (I can't tell you how many times customers have accused us of stealing $$ out of their wallets before we got those lockers). They are there to protect both you AND me.

The first thing I noticed when I walked in was his entire outfit hanging perfectly off the back of the chair which had been moved into the corner of the room. I remembered the signs of a peeping tom, so I didn't panic. Instead, I casually asked him if he could move his clothes to the locker. He replied that it looked "dirty" to him and he felt better keeping them out.

Strike one - damn! On to Plan B.

I picked up a fresh towel and walked over to the chair. "Well sir, I have to remind you that we are not responsible for any stains to your clothing from the massage oils that we use, and that's why we ask that you use the lockers." He didn't say anything, but just looked at me nervously.

"I apologize if the locker does not meet your standards of cleanliness and I will take care of that before my next customer. So to ensure that your clothes are protected, I'm going to use this towel to keep any massage oils that we use from coming in contact with them." And with that I unfolded the big white towel and placed it squarely over top his hanging clothes.

When his expression went from nervous to frustrated, I knew I had him. I took a quick check around the room to make sure nothing else was out of the ordinary, then I began the session. He seemed obviously distracted at first, but calmed down a few minutes into the massage. And when we were done, I made damn sure that I was fully clothed before he even had a chance to pull that towel off his clothes.

So take that as a lesson guys. Don't try any of that pervy stuff on us - unless you pay us extra! Heck, I've let guys use their cell phones to record the happy ending, but I charged them extra and even reviewed the video to make sure you couldn't see my face. I've only let 1 customer ever record an entire session, but that was a while ago and only as a special favor. I think I mentioned him in a post a while ago.

And one more thing - think before you start recording all of your little activities. It's sooooo easy to record stuff and post it on the internet nowadays. And remember - I do this for a living, so I'm not the one who's getting embarassed nearly as much as the married, father of 3 who forgets that he left that video file on his phone...


Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Farewell Cindy

Yesterday was Cindy's last day at work. She's due at the beginning of May, so she toughed it out till should couldn't take being on her feet anymore. We took her out to lunch and as a suprise we had them bring her an ice cream sundae with a pickle stuck in the middle of it. She thought it was funny, but didn't eat any of it. Oh well.

8 and 1/2 months pregnant and Cindy was STILL bringing in customers. Go figure. As she got bigger and bigger, her butt didn't get any wider, but her stomach got huge. From behind you could barely tell she was pregnant, and she has a small frame to begin with. And over the last couple of months, I've only seen 4 guys refuse to take her. And the ironic thing was that they were all heavyset guys too.

I don't know if it was pity or concern or whatever, but Cindy kept getting appointments and decent tips up till this past week. And get this - she still kept getting requests for mutuals!!!! Guys actually wanted to pay extra to rub that belly! I asked her about it and she said that all the guys were totally cool about it and no one asked to do anything perverted like cum on her belly or anything. And she swears up and down that her full service days are over.

Audrey hasn't said how she's going to split up Cindy's shifts, or whether she intends to hire a temp. Personally, I'd rather just pick up her extra customers. And you know how I feel about the hiring process. I guess in a way I'm gonna be sorry to see her go. I mean we started off a bit rough, but as time went by and we got to know each other again, I could see myself being friends with her.

It's just weird when you consider how much history we have and how badly it ended last time. I think what made these last few months so easy for us is that we never actually needed or expected anything from each other. I did my job and she did hers. And I think that's what made it feel like a true starting over.

So I guess a pregnant masseuse just brings out the best in most people. And that's actually kind of a nice thing to see nowadays. Keep it up guys.


Thursday, April 9, 2009

The Domme

I got an e-mail the other day from a guy who wanted to mix things up, so instead of seeing a regular erotic masseuse, he saw a Dominatrix instead. Funny story which I can't tell here, but it's definitely a complete departure from your standard rub-n-tug. And not for the faint of heart.

I have an old friend I used to work with who's a professional Domme. And when I say "professional" I mean that not only did she make a living at it, she actually led the lifestyle.

Nicest woman you'd ever want to meet too. We'll call her Wanda. Just by looking at her, you'd never know it. Usually kept her hair up. Wore nice blouses or cardigans to work. A very conservative appearance which she said was sometimes necessary when she made housecalls to some of the upper crust neighborhoods of Philly.

We worked together at my last business, which was a number of years ago. Apparently she was moonlighting from her regular gig of whipping guys for money and considered the whole massage thing as a kind of vacation. Wanda lived in one of the nicer suburbs of Philly and would commute into town to her "studio" most of the week, and then commute out to the boondocks to work our business on the weekends.

Now when I say she lived the life - she lived the life. Her house - apart from being incredibly tasteful - was filled with all sorts of elegant, but scary bondage implements. It wasn't uncommon to find a rubber cat-o-nine tails lying on the kitchen counter, or see the sewing machine propped up against an iron cross. One of my favorite stories about her was when I was sitting in her living room admiring these beautifully designed crystal sculptures on her coffee table, which I later found out were very very very expensive dildos.

But that wasn't the coolest thing about her. She also had a live in slave.

Now if you pictured the leather bound Gimp from Pulp Fiction, or some sexy girl in a chainmail bikini, you'd have it all wrong. The "slave" was a woman who had been referred to Wanda for her most extreme of services - slave training. Turns out that she was this total fuck up with absolutely no self control or discipline, and Wanda took it upon herself to get this woman's life in order - basically for free.

The slaves duties were to cook, clean, shop, and do other menial errands around the house. And that was mostly it. But, as Wanda explained there was this very strict ritual to it. And all of the rules of keeping the house and attending to her "Mistress" had to be strictly adhered to, or else the riding crop came out.

I didn't quite understand myself until one day while we were chatting at the kitchen table, she demonstrated by silently raising an empty coffee cup over her head. I swear to Gawd - I have never seen a waitress move as quickly as this "slave" to grab a pot of coffee. Wanda never took her eyes off me as her cup was quickly topped off. And her big grin only proved that she took pride in her work.

And I guess this was the sort of attention to detail that Wanda brought to every aspect of this womans life. She taught her how to balance a checkbook, mantain a schedule, clean her room, get car insurance - mundane stuff like that. And after about a year of this, she was finally able to take control of her own life. She got a job, moved out and I hear is now leading the relatively "normal" life that the rest of us take for granted.

I took a session with Wanda once, just because I was curious about the whole BDSM thing. I won't get into it here, but let's just say it was very intense, and I could see why guys were willing to pay $$$ for it.

I haven't seen her in ages, but we still chat once in a blue moon. Last I heard, the economy was taking it's toll on the Domme industry too and she had resorted to bartering with some of her more loyal clients. She told me about this one guy who couldn't afford her fees anymore, so she arranged for him to perform "submissive house cleaning." He'd come over, switch to his bondage outfit, then clean her house. Meanwhile, she would dress up in thigh-highs with garter and follow him around barking orders at him. And at the end of the session (and the house was spotless) she'd give him the stockings as a reward!!!

That's what I need - a guy to come over and clean my house in exchange for a happy ending. I swear - if business gets any slower I might resort to that! LOL


Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Job Satisfaction, Employee Benefits, And Other Bad Puns About Getting Off On The Job - Part 3: The Big O

Finally, here is the thrilling conclusion to my confession about getting off at work. I debated for a while over whether to even talk about this or not since I haven't told ANYONE - not even Trina. So here goes... (forgive me Trina!!!!)

I don't know how many times I've faked an orgasm at work, but let me tell ya - I'm goooooood. I do the squealing, head thrashing, heavy breathing, everything. I'll even throw in the customers name (when I can remember it). The Big O isn't an extra by itself, but it's assumed when I'm asked to do any options where I play with myself. I really hate to burst some bubbles out there, but 99% of the time we're faking it in session.

When a guy pays to watch me take care of myself, I go from Ordinary Masseuse to CJ-SUPERSTAR! It's all an act for 2 reasons:

1) I am TOTALLY embarassed about what I look like during orgasm. In fact, I won't even let my boyfriends look at me when I cum. When I reach orgasm, I'll usually grab their heads and pull them down so they can't see my face. I know that sounds totally mental, but that's just how I roll.

2) When I actually do touch myself in real life, it's probably the most boring thing you've ever seen - I barely move and I make absolutely no noise. I've discovered that guys don't want reality in session - they want the whole screaming, thrashing porn star performance.

And for all those customers out there who didn't buy my act and thought they could talk me into a real one, let me know if this little scene sounds familiar?

Me: "Oh I couldn't do THAT for real!"
Them: "Come on baby, I'll make it worth your while."
Me: "Well, I've never done this for a customer before... But for you... OK!"

And a few quiet moans, sighs and a lip bite later, I was several hundred dollars richer and they were none the wiser. Maybe I should have become an actress.

Now this brings me to the deep dark secret that I've been dreading about. I've never told ANYONE this before, but yours truly - CJ - once had an orgasm during session. A really good one too. And ironically, it wasn't during one of my Oscar performances either. Let me explain...

It was during a mutual massage, and the guy had asked for a "cowgirl" release. This is where the customer lies down on his back and I straddle him like we're fucking. Then I reach my hand behind me and work his cock so to him it feels like we're actually fucking (this position goes by other names, but I call it the Cowgirl). He was a Regular that I was comfortable enough with - not a great looking guy, but really really sweet.

As I was working him with my hand, I was also bouncing up and down. So with each bounce I was stroking his cock at the same time. It wasn't like I was grinding on him either - it was just a sort of light, rhythmic fucking motion. Well, as we were pretend fucking he starts with the sexy talk. "Oh CJ... you make me feel so good... I am sooooo hot for you right now..." I told you guys before that I'm a total sucker for sexy talk, so I was just drinking it all in.

Now for an average looking guy, he had a really sexy deep voice. And I think it was the combination of the two that finally got to me. We kept in this position for several minutes. I was in no hurry for him to finish since I was enjoying myself too. He kept caressing me with that silky voice of his, "Mmmmmmmmmmm... You are just soooo sexy... don't stop you beautiful, beautiful girl..."

Suddenly I felt something was wrong. At first, it seemed like a tiny little panic attack, but something about it wasn't right. I felt funny, like there was a knot in my stomach. But it's not my stomach - it's somewhere lower. I think I feel something in my... in my... OH GAWD.

I stopped bouncing. And that's when it hit... The first wave of a giant orgasm. I think I said "oh shit" or something like that because he asked if I was OK. But I wasn't OK. I clutched at his chest with my free hand and let go of his prick at the same time. I actually had to steady myself as wave after wave of intensity washed over me. And by the time I figured out what was happening, it was already coming to an end.

I sat there, shocked for a second, before his voice reminded me I wasn't alone. "Are you sure you're OK CJ?" Now remember what I said before about being embarassed about cumming? This was no exception, and I suddenly felt very very aware of being naked in a room with a naked man underneath me. I actually ended up telling him that I didn't feel good and I had to leave - NOW. So I jumped off the table, grabbed my clothes, ran out of the room and locked myself in the bathroom. That's how embarassed (and mental) I was!

After a few minutes I calmed down, and finally went out and apologized. I explained to him that I just had a wicked stomach ache but I was OK now. I promised him a double next session, and he was OK with that. He never found out that he was the ONLY guy to ever give me an orgasm in session (and one of the few people EVER to see my orgasm face!).

But now the whole world knows and I hope Trina will forgive me for not telling her this story in person. The weird thing is that I have never had an orgasm like that since then. I've even tried recreating the exact same scenario with a boyfriend - but nothing. And the next time that same customer came in, I felt nothing. It was a once-in-a-lifetime thing I guess. Darn.


Friday, April 3, 2009

Freak of the Week - The Sadistic Fuck

THIS is the story that I wanted Trina to tell last week, but she refused. So I'm gonna tell it instead because I think it needs to be said.

Trina has this Regular that's been in maybe 6 or 7 times. Definitely a Regular because whenever he comes in, he insists on seeing her and only her. To me, he just looks like some normal old guy, maybe around 60. Always wearing a sweater with nice dress shoes, like he just got back from visiting his grandkids. Hair is only slightly gray and cut very short.

At first glance you'd say he was a retired military or corporate guy. We get a lot of those around here. The guys with the decent retirement still have the cash to splurge on us once a month. And it's funny because some of these guys are like clockwork. For example, I have a retired Regular who has a standing appointment for the third wednesday of every month at 11 am. He probably tells his wife he's out golfing.

Anyway, this customer of Trina's only books a 30 minute session. According to her, when he gets in the room, he just drops his pants and sits in a chair. He doesn't want a massage. Instead, he tells her to undress and then go straight to the happy ending while he's sitting in the chair and she's kneeling in front of him. So in other words, their session is basically a 30 minute hand job.

Now that's a looooong time for anyone to keep that up, so her arms must be killing her by the end. But that's not the sadistic part of the session. Apparently, while Trina is naked on her knees working that cock with her hands, this old guy just goes on and on saying the most vile, twisted, perverted, sickest shit you can possibly imagine.

And I don't mean the typical "you're a dirty whore" stuff either. Trina refuses to talk about it now, but from what I've gathered, this sick mother fucker says the most humiliating and degrading things about her. A lot of it is along the lines of "how can you look yourself in the mirror?" or "if your mother could see you now" - kinda shit. I mean the most insulting, hurtful kind of stuff that can be said.

Trina's just sits there quietly taking it while continuing to work his dick. She isn't allowed to say anything back, or make eye contact. And this torture goes on for 30 minutes, or until he finally cums. Then he just sort of zips up and leaves while she cleans herself up.

The first time she ever had him in session, Trina said it was kinda funny for the first 10 minutes, then it felt uncomfortable before moving on to creepy. And by the end of the session it was actually starting to get to her. After he left that first time, she locked herself in the bathroom and cried. I asked her why she continues to see him if he's such an asshole. Turns out that he tips extremely good - I mean we're talking rent money good. So if Trina is willing to sell a tiny piece of her self respect each month in order to pay her bills, who am I to say anything?

Now you know me - any guy says ANYTHING that bothers me and his ass is out the door. No Regular is worth that. If a guy wants to call me a dirty whore in order to fit the mood, that's one thing. But if a guy calls me a dirty whore and MEANS it - that's something else. I can't imagine selling little bits of my soul like that for any amount of money.

I just really pisses me off to think about it. She deserves better. That's all.