Blue Balled by YouTube

Like the rest of the planet, I am obsessed with YouTube. I wish I could be more "original", but unfortunately I spend too much free time watching Australian comedy, Max Fleischer cartoons, and 80s public service announcements. When I curiously typed in sensual massage, I got mostly crap. This one is "roll your eyes" funny instead of "rolling with laughter" funny.

This one is just creepy...

Usually YouTube leaves me satisfied, but it's lacking in Rub&Tug humor. I need to get a video camera...

Better left undiscovered.

I've always been a fan of unusual scientific stories. For years I've had a subscription to Nat'l Geographic and Discover magazine. As a child I thought I was going to be a scientific illustrator and I had bookshelves of aquariums and cages of newts, lizards, toads, rats, a wolf spider (w/ egg!), and hermit crabs. At that time I was very popular with the boys for the opposite reason I am now. I never hoarded the creatures - I was always too sympathetic and let them go in a creek near my house. But one species that has always sent shivers down my spine is FISH. I'm not sure why, but they always show up in my nightmares and keep me from spending time in lakes and beaches. So the other day I read this article and I could not close the page fast enough! That monstrosity was burned into brain and that night I had my reoccurring "fish dream" where a fish swims out of a lake and I have to do whatever I can to get it back in even though I'm disgusted (sort of like the scene from Pee Wee's Big Adventure where he reluctantly saves the snakes from the burning pet shop).

On that note: here's something that can send me running from a room. Does anyone know a good psychoanalyst?

This wasn't in my job description...

I started out my career in the sex industry as a mistress in a dungeon (or dinge-eon). I stayed for a few months, but it just wasn't my cup of tea, and frankly, there's not enough money in it. I thought I left that life behind... a new page... a new chapter. As a bodyrub girl, I get quite a few men who either ask me before a session or right in the middle of a session if I would care to beat their ass or crush their balls. I never bring up that I had experience in that work and usually decline by saying it's "not on the menu". But every once in awhile I indulge them. I do this either because they're annoying me and I feel they need a good whack or my inner domme sneaks out and I go into my specialty: the sympathetic, but tough-lovin' nanny.

By the way, I chose the photo above because she looks a lot like me. Except, I'm thinner and not so Cheresque. Oh, never mind.

Hippie Blood Runs Thick

I was raised by hippies. Looking back on my childhood, I can sometimes point to this relation when it comes to my resilience to the rub & tug "ick" factor. I'm not saying I am a product of hippies - in fact, my siblings took the opposite route by being virginal, Republican Christians. I also opposed their tastes by being a little goth/punk, but realized the hippie was in my soul.

Although I was a child of the 80s, my memories are of my mother housecleaning in the nude, yoga parties, Dead concerts, our VW van with curtains, R. Crumb comics, growing weed in the backyard, crystal healing, organic snacks... What helped formulate my becoming a woman were the new age tantra/sex/massage books my mother seemed to have a library of. I would secretly study the illustrations of hairy bohemians in blissfully complicated positions - their expressions radiating a glow from their third eye. For me, sex seemed like an impossibly complicated mating dance used for the goal of world peace and magical powers. In high school I discovered what sex really was: clumsy, messy, and mostly hilarious.

When I became a bodyrub girl, I pulled out a lot of my counterculture upbringing to create an air of mysticism. I use tantra and yoga moves along with a hypnotising tone of voice, and the clients are mesmerised by it. Sometimes I feel like a fraud since I'm actually an atheist who likes it rough, but maybe it's good I'm keeping the hope of Hippie Utopia alive.

For the man who has everything.

So I just got an email from a woman in Long Island who wanted to buy her husband a surprise bodyrub for his birthday. I had to let her know that I don't travel to that area, but I don't think I would have been comfortable with that type of situation.

You may be thinking, "what a cool wife!" But I don't think that's the desire of men. I have a sense that married men get off on the idea that they are doing something behind their wife's back. Sure, they tell me their wife doesn't give them special attention, she's lost her shape, they no longer have sex... But I feel that these are the same men who wouldn't be seeing me if they were single. They feel that if they were single, they could have me - and that freedom frightens them. It is the fantasy of being caught "with their pants down" and the barriers between is that makes the experience truly sexy.

Here's an example in my own life: I rent porn with my husband, buy it for him as gifts, have no negative feelings if he wanks off when I'm not around, but if I'm "sleeping" he'll watch it "secretly" and deny it later. Hilarious (and adorable)!

Remember the movie American Beauty? The film surrounds Kevin Spacey's obsession with teenager Mena Suvari. His entire world unravels with a fantastical quest to possess the girl by digressing into a younger self. Yet as soon as she makes herself available to him, the illusion of perfection comes apart and he's paralyzed by this realization. In the real world, I think he would have had sex with her, just as my obsessed clients would have sex with me if I invited it. The mirage of satisfaction would quickly realize itself later. Then his obsession would just manifest itself in another hopeless passion.


Obsessional does not necessarily mean sexual obsession, not even obsession for this, or for that in particular; to be an obsessional means to find oneself caught in a mechanism, in a trap increasingly demanding and endless. Jacques Lacan

Migraine Day

My little uninvited guest came by this afternoon. I was rough housing with my dog when I started to feel dizzy. Then came the aura, or a flashing spiky strobe vision in my left eye. When the aura appears in the left eye, the migraine will be on the right. This is my warning sign to take an Imitrex, close the shades, put on an eye mask, turn off the radio, and get into bed with a pillow over my head. The aura will end and I feel like I'm sinking for about a half hour. Then comes the ice chisels to my head and the vomiting. The pain is not only in my skull, but my entire being. Smells, light, and sound become highly intense and cause extreme agony.

Eight hours later: feeling better, but beat up.

10 Things I Hate About You

Yesterday work was very busy, but very exasperating. Trust me, I love the money and most of my clients are fab, but here's a quick list of things about a client that make me eager to get home and shower in scalding hot water. No random order.

1. Your breath reeks. I don't care if you just smoked a cigarette or had a cup of coffee. I'm talking about the repugnant kind that is rooted in a lifetime of non-flossing and bad health. These are usually the types of me who want to... (see next item)

2. You try to lick me. Unexpectedly you sit up and attempt to lick anything you can with you foul, sloppy white tongue. You protest, " I wanna turn you on!" This is why you also complain that you can't meet anyone.

3. You complain about your wife. Listen sweetie. I see your wedding ring and you don't have to feel guilty or explain your self to me. I don't care. I'm probably thinking about pizza.

4. You ask what I REALLY do or what I aspire to be. It seems like a friendly question, but every single man asks me this in an attempt to get to "know me". It's not your business and I feel it's patronizing. Do you ask your garbage man what he really wants to be? ps: I usually just give you a vague lie anyway.

5. You have a small piece of toilet paper stuck in your ass. I won't want to get very close to you and I'll be dreadfully fixated on it the entire session. Check yo'self!

6. You want to give me a massage. Gosh, no one's offered that before! Keep your stealthy probing fingers to yourself. Now get your chubby ass back on the table.

7. You play 20 questions in order to guess my age. "So when did you graduate college?" "Do you remember that TV show?" "You probably weren't born when that song came out, right?" So, what year did you move here?"

8. You don't cut your toenails. You're wearing a thousand dollar Italian suit, but your feet look like this. No foot massage for you mister.

9. You go on and on about wishing you could meet a girl like me. You realize your paying me, right?

10. You want so much more and don't even offer to pay for it. You know I don't offer extras - especially since I said "no" when you asked me eight times. Do you beg the waiter for dessert after a meal? If I were the type gave extras, you will have to offer money for the honey.

Diff'rent Strokes

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She that toucheth penis shall be defiled therewith.

When giving happy endings at the dungeon (before I was a bodyrub girl), we were required to wear rubber gloves or have the client put a condom on. For me this worked well, as I was recently engaged and felt that the thin distance of latex kept me morally safe from what is considered cheating. Never mind the fact that I was peeing on their faces, whipping their balls, and screwing them with strap-ons - the legal and ethical codes of actually touching a penis until it comes is considered more obscene than fantastical torture.

Later I had a brief stint with an erotic wrestling studio. This was the kind of place where men would go to have fake wrestling matches with bikini clad women. You know how we women really like to show a man who's who when we sit on their faces! Anyway, when we girls inevitably won , we get the poor defenseless man off by hand. This was my first experience with an uncovered hj, and it was a bit liberating. It was nice to avoid the akward "glove or condom?" (paper or plastic?) question and get them off and out the door more quickly. Yet I became meticulous when checking my hands for tiny cuts and started scrubbing my hands with the hottest soapy water I could bear.

By the time I started doing bodyrub, I became careful, but not overly OCD about the cleanup. While hand sanitizer is applied several times a day, it is not only after a session. I think I have far more to worry about germ-wise with the other contacts my hands make in NYC: elevator buttons, subway poles, door knobs, dog parks, grocery cart handles, pocket change...
With this job, it's required to be as clean as possible, but a psycho-neurotic germaphobe will not survive. If you think you can wash your naughtiness away, you are mistaken!

Freelancing, Erotic Style

You hear it all the time in New York City. Freelancing is not as easy as it seems. Those independent and artistic spirits who are drawn to an office-less, boss-less career are the same types who have trouble creating structure in their day.

When I quit the bodyrub spa to work for myself, I imagined having more money rolling in while keeping my home immaculate, creating home cooked cuisines, and taking on several crafty activities. Although the money rolled in, I became increasingly lazy. I have always been the type who naturally wakes up at 7am to run the dog and blend a smoothie. Then suddenly I morphed into the other type... I began having trouble getting into the shower before noon, snacking from the cupboards instead of cooking, and taking luxurious afternoon naps with my mutt. Business began to hurt. I couldn't go to an outcall if I was unshowered and hungry with an anxious pup! I finally created a weekly schedule that allows me to get everything done before noon... but it's not easy because I'm a very laid back boss.

Top 10 Annoying Client Questions

*this is NOT how I really answer them!

Q: Can you be at my house in 5 minutes?

A: Sure! My ad says 2 hours notice, but for you, I'll just hop on my magic carpet!

Q: Can you wear 4 inch white patent leather heels, a black silk pencil skirt, a fitted red button up blouse, etc, etc...

A: Ummm, I provide bodyrub, not a fashion show.

Q: What's the difference between a 1 hour session and a 2 hour session?

A: 60 minutes

Q: What's your REAL name? You can tell me.

A: If I told you, I'd have to kill you.

Q: WOW! If you make that much an hour, you must make over $500,000 a year!

A: Yes, with the help of my magic carpet, I work 8 hours a day 5 days a week. You sure are smart for a lawyer!

Q: Do your parents know what you do?

A: Of course. They have a topless photo of me on their fire mantle.

Q: So, now that we're friends, do you wanna just hang out and have sex with me casually?

A: Yeah, let's get that burdensome "money part" out of the way.

Q: Why doesn't my wife act as sweet and sexy as you?

A: Try paying her.

Q: You must see a lot of smelly, fat, annoying guys. Right?

A: Yes, they're all horrible except for you my darling prince.

Q: I don't believe it's natural for men to be with one woman. Don't you agree?

A: Is that why you got married Mr Science?

Let's get this party started! FAQ

Okay - the title of this blog and post is a little tongue in cheek. The first thing you need to know about me is my work life may be different from yours, but it really isn't that much of an "adventure". I started this blog so that I can vent since my friends and family don't know what I do. I'm going to give myself a little interview for your pleasure.

What exactly do you do?
There are so many names for what I do: tantra bodyrub, alternative relaxation therapy,rub & tug, sensual bodyrub/bodywork, happy ending... A misused title would be anything that includes the work "massage" since I do not have a license to practice in NY. One could get in arrested for practicing massage without one. I do, however give authentic deep tissue bodyrub in the nude and "relieve" my client at the end of the session. Most of of the session focuses on the rest of the body: scalp, back, feet, fingers, everything! I work for myself as an outcall service at upscale residences and hotels.

What don't you do?
I don't do what those in the sex industry call full-service or extras. This means sex of any kind, even oral! I like to do my work hands on only.

Why do guys want that? Why don't they just hire a hooker?
There are various reasons why men prefer bodyrub over escorts. Here are a few: totally safe from STDs, you don't have to do anything but lay there, the good-looking bodyrub girls are cheaper than the good looking escorts, you get a spa experience with candles/music/muscle rub (yes, men like that!), many men don't consider it cheating, etc.

How did you start?
When I graduated college I was struggling to stay on top of bills and ridiculous NY rent. I wasn't able to enjoy the city and I almost felt like moving to a more boring, but cheaper city. One day while looking at Craigslist for office jobs, I came across an ad for an S&M dungeon for $100 and hour. I joked to my then fiance that I would apply. He said, "why not? I had an ex girlfriend who did it and loved whipping men for money." I was surprised he didn't mind, so I got an interview and was hired the next day. It wasn't what I expected. It was mostly sensual roleplay (teacher/mommy/schoolgirl) and I was required to "help them" by hand at the end. I later discovered this isn't normal for a dungeon and I felt I was exerting a lot of psychological energy doing sometimes disgusting work for less money than a bodyrub parlor. I quit the dungeon and started working for a small parlor out of a high rise apartment. It was a perfect fit - the men were upper class, normal, and mostly good looking Wall St types. The environment was relaxing and I made far more money than the in the kink biz. Although I look back at the S&M work with repulsion, I certainly learned the art of keeping my clients obedient!

So... your husband knows what you do?
Yep! It's not something we really talk about in detail. We've been together over 5 years and have a very healthy monogamous relationship. I actually don't think I could do it without him. Because I'm married, I have no desire to slip into full-service work and I also feel safer being aware that he knows where I am just in case my client ends up being psycho. And yes, we keep our money separate. He has his own career.

Is it dangerous?
I've only come across annoying men. :) On top of my husband knowing where I am (I call him before & after a session) I have a pretty good screening process. I know there are risks, but I face more risks when I ride my bike in traffic.

Do you like it?
My only regret is I didn't start sooner! I love being able to make my own hours and pay for everything I need. I'm not in this for the long-run, so I'm saving to start my own home business and start a family (boring, right?).

I have more questions.
Go ahead and ask! :-D