Don't call me Madam! (or, Paranoia Abounds!)

Yesterday I saw one of my regular, mild-mannered fetish clients. All was great until after our session, when he rather nervously asked me if Iwould "remove all traces" of him from my email, cellphone, paper calendar and Rosetta Stone, and never contact him again.

I was a bit stunned and when I asked where this sudden directive came from, he cited the "DC Madam," who was arrested recently for running a high-profile,15-girl prostitution ring for a total of 13 years. The madam in question briefly floated the idea of selling her "43 lbs" of detailed client records (!) to the highest bidder. A federal judge quickly derailed the idea.

My nervous client, neither well-known nor likely to be, envisioned himself the unhappy recipient of media glare if I was ever taken away in cuffs.

Let me tell you what I told him (after assuring him that his very existence would be forever eradicated from my consciousness.)

Women who run large-scale prostitution rings with celebrities and elected officials as clients naturally attract attention from law enforcement and the IRS. Millions of dollars of undeclared income... famous names... and a revolving door of indiscreet "employees" create a target worthy of pursuit and prosecution.

On the other hand.... low-key, tax-paying, individual providers operating out of a single discreet location- no fanfare, no employees, no racketeering-- simply aren't worth the government's attention, time or money.

The DC Madam is facing a host of serious charges which range from pandering to tax evasion, money laundering and more. She's in deep shit.

I, however, am no Madam. And if, to my misfortune, a local vice cop slips through my screening someday and takes me downtown, I'll pay my misdemeanor fine and go home. It won't be fun, but it certainly won't be front page news.

With rising gas prices, hurricane season and new episodes of America's Next Top Model on the horizon, we all have much weightier issues to worry about. So let's get on with the show.

Thank God it's Monday! My sex diary.

I've never thought I could have too much fun. After all, this is the girl who practically invented the all-weekend romp.

But today, I'm looking back over a Saturday and Sunday that would give Wilt Chamberlain pause.

Here's the "blow by blow."

Saturday afternoon-- an extremely hot and athletic encounter of the Tabu kind.

Saturday 9-midnight-- a lusty foray into the epicenter of sexual freedom, a swing club in South Florida. Old friends, new conquests, and some intriguing possibilities that lead the BF and me into...

Sunday morning, midnight -6AM... a hotel room full of kinky couples perpetrating absolutely illegal-in-49 states, barely-make-it-out-alive experiments in Sex Ed, Advanced Studies.

Sunday evening, 5-11... when an always-hot Latino friend called and wanted to introduce his horny new GF to the Institute of Higher Yearning, well, who were we to say no?

So. Monday morning arrives in a blur of pleasure, sleep deprivation and utter satisfaction.
I wouldn't have it any other way.

“Cleanup on aisle five!”

Good sex is messy.

Whenever I focus all my attention on a luscious, meaty, quivering cock, I fully intend to drain every single ounce of goodness out of it.

Now whether that ends up creating a creamy glaze over my breasts, or dotting and pooling in delicious eddies on a manly abdomen, or cascading in pulse after pulse down my very greedy throat.... I can hardly choose a favorite.

But I think I look lovely in pearls.

Becoming Tabu - or, How a little girl from Texas found her inner harlot

When I was still in Sunday School, ladies' romance magazines were a forbidden but tantalizing lure into the adult world. Every article promised a mysterious pleasure that was just out of my reach.

"I knew I should resist his advances, but when he touched me..."
"One woman's secret rendezvous with lust..."

I'd grow warm between my legs as I read the barely-veiled accounts of illicit encounters. As I slipped into the world of trembling hands, hard kisses and racing pulses, my own incipient urges demanded their due. Exploring my own sweet girlhood, the pages of Modern Romance formed the backdrop: shuddering, velvet-leaved and imbued with eroticism.

One night my eyes lit on a portrait of a man overwhelmed by passion, literally sweeping an unresisting beauty into his arms. "Tabu," it touted, "the forbidden perfume."

Ah, I thought, what kind of power must that woman be hiding, to create a desire so rebellious, so ardent. My quickened heartbeat memorized the syllables of her allure.... Tabu. Tabu. Tabu.

When it came time to unleash the confident and sexual woman I eventually became, there seemed no other possible choice. My tigress would not be a girl next door or a long-suffering slattern. She would be the darkly welcome addiction-- one who would drive men to make secret visits in the shadows, to work long hours in the service of her demands, and one who would answer their passion with a desire as hungry as their own.

Every day she lives in me as real as my heartbeat. Because becoming Tabu is a transformation that leaves unchanged the essence of my true self... the little girl, enthralled. The woman, unbound.

Naughty Nurse at your service!

OK, boys-- something new just arrived from Wicked Temptations, and you know I just HAVE to try it out.... so all you boys needing some extra-special "physical therapy" from Nurse Tabu-- get on over here, stat!

I'm dying to model my new curve-hugging, cleavage-spilling nurse uniform for you-- along with my red 6-inch heels that make my legs go on forever.

So don't put off that annual check-up! Appointments at my clinic this week on Wed 3-9, Thurs 12-9 and Friday 10-9. Pre-screened patients given priority treatment!

Can't wait to take your pulse! (and get it pounding!)

Good guys/Bad guys.... My Referral Policy

As you know, we providers safeguard each other by vouching for our good guys and flagging the bad ones. Unfortunately, the bad ones are getting sneakier all the time. Because of this, many of us are tightening our policies about referrals.

Beginning February 1, 2007, I will be glad to provide referrals for anyone I have seen in the past SIX MONTHS. If our meeting occurred before that, I will ask you to seek out a reference from a lady you have seen more recently.

Why the change? We're finding clients evading accountability for bad behavior by reaching back to a time when they were acting properly. They claim to have seen no one in the meantime. Because this claim can't be easily verified, we are put at risk.

If you hobby infrequently, I recommend you consider joining either of two nationally-respected verification services. Date-Check and Preferred411 will verify your information discreetly, and issue you a unique ID that providers can use for screening. Both services offer an avenue to flag dangerous or discourteous clients, so they are widely accepted by many providers in lieu of traditional references.

I love my good guys (and they are far in the majority.) To you, thank you for your understanding and cooperation!

To the "gentlemen" who like to no-show, shortchange, harass, stalk or assault providers, I hope I'm making your life a lot more difficult.

Never on Saturday... nights!

It's common escort wisdom: Saturday nights can make you rich.

Horny business travelers spending the weekend away from home... horny young guys between girlfriends and looking for a surefire score.... horny regulars whose wives are off visiting Mom.

So why I don't I work on Saturday nights?

Because I'm horny myself!

(Now, this is no secret to my personal friends and playmates.... but I'll let you who don't know me in on it, too.) Look up the hottest swing club, the house party that oozes naughtiness with my favorite boy and girl sluts.... and this weekend, my very own "Dangerous Curves" party.... and well, you can see my dilemma.

Do I work... or play?

When it's a choice between fun and MORE fun, well, I have to go with my parts. I mean, my heart.

See you on Monday.

Casino Royale coming soon on DVD

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There's no need to fear... Date-Check and 411 are here!

I'm delighted to announce that I'm now making it easier than ever to book an appointment.

If you're a member of Date-Check or Preferred 411, you can now cut your screening time from hours to mere minutes. Just give me the appropriate info in your email or phone call, and you're on your way!

I do love the reputable verification organizations... when I tour Chicago, I depend on RS2K, as well.

If you're skittish about giving out work info, etc to individual providers, consider joining one of these fine groups. They verify your info privately-- and you never have it give it out again. From then on, your ID number, email or other identifying detail acts as your ID.

Can't wait to meet my fine Date-Check and Preferred411 gentlemen!

I’m the Other Woman: A Guide for the Principled Provider

Gentle Reader, here is today’s question for your consideration.

A well-regarded provider reports that she’s been victimized by a fellow provider: her belongings are stolen, her equanimity’s disturbed and her reputation is temporarily tarnished by association. It’s a sordid little mess that crops up as commonly as fungus.

Now, I’m not overly worried about the upstanding lady; she’s dealt with such ugliness before. What I do wonder about is the victimizer-- the Other Woman.

How different can she be from me? We both work in a shadowy and marginal world where we’re sharply judged on our weight, our looks, our conversational skills and our performance. Our daily living depends on the sexual whims of strangers. On a good week, we’re idolized as the consummate girlfriend. On a bad one, we’re haggled with and belittled. At all times, we live under the real threat of arrest or assault. On the surface, there’s every reason to let our emotions run away with us.

Yet, I, for one, cultivate a calm, drama-free life. I get along with anyone who treats me with courtesy and respect. I don't propagate rumors, refuse to give references or steal other girls' images, ideas or thunder. For the past year, I’ve allowed a friend to use my incall without fear of her outing me or allowing riff-raff into my space. I practice playing fair.

So what I don’t understand is how so many of us can routinely lie, denigrate, cheat, backstab and connive against each other. Even when justified, such behavior not only reinforces the world’s idea of us as desperate or tainted– it batters our daily happiness with mistrust and manipulation. It’s no wonder even the steadiest of us can get shaky on our foundations.

Hence, my question. Is this the nature of our business, or the nature of women? Do we act badly out of malice, or because we have no agreed-upon moral compass? Maybe it’s time we did agree on a handful of positive principles that could help turn our collective faces into the light. I’ll start with four ideas and I would welcome anyone else’s thoughts.

Principled Providers agree that:

Because the world rewards us for our cunning and quick wits, we’ll use them
to thwart dangerous clients and keep each other safe.

If a steady client disappoints us by moving on to greener pastures, we’ll view it
not vengefully, but as part of a large karmic circle. The client our competitor
loses today may call us tomorrow.

We’ll replace shrewishness and petty jealousy with motivated admiration.
There will always be someone who markets, dresses or looks better than we do.
We’ll look at how they’re doing things– and learn.

And we’ll recognize that we all deal with our daily degree of difficulty.
So even if I can’t help you make your rent, I can refrain from broadcasting
your situation over the Internet.

Gentle reader, I’m far from an expert on the profession of providing. But I do consider it an intimate and honorable vocation. Because for every instance of simple sexual pleasure I give my clients, I also know that for many of them, my friendship and non-judgmental presence in their life transcends the value of money.

In the end, we’re all doing good. So isn’t it time we do good for each other, as well? Whether the champagne’s bubbling or it’s the end of a weary day, each of us is the Other Woman.

On Martin Luther King Day, I have a dream. Let’s do her proud.