I’m disoriented and I caught a cold–not necessarily in that order–but otherwise, I’m safe and sound.  

      And $2000 richer.  

     Posting pictures of money is trashy and tacky.  But when is the last time I made $2000 in 36 hours?  Uhhh….never.  Uhhh….$2000 is usually approximately 70% of my monthly wages.  

Incredibly, cash

     Boy, that was something else.   It’s sort of a blur in my memory (and I wasn’t even drinking–ha!), but I know that my 8 readers like stories!!! of my wacky exploits, so I’ll give you…”Dinner with Donald” (the guy I was thinking of as ‘Donald Trump’ because of his preference in lodging).

      He was an affable man approximately as old as Nesfaratu: 
         But he was a nice enough guy.  We met in the bar area of the hotel restaurant.  When I extended my hand to shake, he looked at it for a long moment before he responded.  I wondered if maybe it was because he was from the older generation where men and women didn’t shake hands, but now I think he was just surprised that I actually showed up or something.  

     I don’t know where this man had been hiding out–maybe he’s an escapee from a wealthy vampire retirement manor somewhere–because he looked at me like he’d never seen a girl before.  And there was nothing unusual about my appearance that evening–I was wearing a conservative black cocktail dress, pumps, and matte makeup.  I’ve been to enough stuffy dining establishments in NYC to know how to dress so that I don’t automatically look like I’m being paid to be there.  

     Conversation was easy.  He’d ask me something like, “What do you do for fun?” and nod slowly at my answer, as if he found what I said fascinating or confusing.  

    I had the scallops.  They were delicious.

    After dinner, we went to his apartment (I thought he was staying at the hotel, but I guess he has a residence there).  According to our agreement, I was supposed to tie him up with vet wrap and electrical tape (his idea) and then Skype with one of my friends about him (also his idea).  Weird, but undemanding, right?  Nothing to it!  

     Well, we didn’t get to that.  He wanted to keep talking.  Or, more accurately, he wanted to listen to me talk.  About really mundane shit, like what my favorite color is and where I went on my last vacation.  I actually started to wonder if he was confused about why, exactly, I was doing there (“Do you want to get started?” I’d ask.  “No,” he said.  “Do you enjoy fishing?”).  

    Okay, well.  I get paid the same either way.  It’s your dime, buddy, it’s your dime…
     Finally, at the end of the night, I thanked him for dinner and said that I’d had a lovely time.  

      He had one final question for me: “I think that you are a very sweet young lady.  Would you like to be my girlfriend?”

       Woah.  Didn’t see that one coming.  Now it was my turn to sit there frozen, blinking wordlessly.  I mean, the answer was obviously no, but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings!

      Eventually, I stammered something about being too busy to have a boyfriend at this point in my life.  

     That made him look sad.  “Will you have dinner with me next week?”

      Suddenly I felt guilty about taking money from sad, lonely Nesfaratu.  

     “I have to check my schedule!  I don’t know if I’ll be in town!” I lied.  

      Then I got out of there.  

      I feel sort of protective of him.  I mean, talk about looking for love in all the wrong places!  I kinda want to forward him the link to Senior Match Connect or something.  

8 thoughts on “Success”

  1. That’s a tidy sum for 36 hours. Nice going Miss Margo! Good to hear your complex sequence of discrete events all unfolded correctly – cold and disorientation not withstanding.

    Hope meet-up with Mr Wolf goes well. He sounds fun. I like hedonists, being partially aligned with that breed myself.


  2. Hi Paltego!

    You have to explain to me sometime what your internet moniker means.

    Thanks for the kudos regarding my windfall! I’m pleased with myself, but mostly I just feel relieved.

    And I have to ask myself: why haven’t I been doing this all along…?

    Mr. Wolf rolled our appointment over to tomorrow night, but I expect we’ll have a fine time. That guy was fun on a stick. You might like to know that HE HAS A DEGREE IN ENGINEERING, TOO! hahaha

    Thanks for reading, paltego. Come back any time!



    1. I should really blog about my moniker, but only because several people have asked me the same question. It’s a far less interesting story than you might hope…..

      On the topic of the money and doing what’s necessary to earn it, you might find this link interesting:

      (Incidentally the Lydia referred to is the Lydia I blog about seeing).

      Hope you’re safe from the storm. Sounds like you had a good time with Mr Wolf at any rate!


  3. Dear Miss Margo,

    Congratulations on the hefty earnings. FWIW I agree completely with C. You do this for money and you should be making more than enough to live.

    This story about Donald is sad. You deserve every dime he paid you, and more besides. Encountering that sort of sadness is hard.

    Your secret job seems to come with a lot of emotional wear and tear.

    Anyway, it reminded me of this song:


  4. Hi John,

    Yes, Donald was a little sad, but he was also comparatively easy. I didn’t feel like I was enduring anything.

    “Encountering that sort of sadness is hard.

    Your secret job seems to come with a lot of emotional wear and tear.”

    You know, as a matter of fact, I’m composing a blog post about this very topic. I’ll reference this quote in it.

    Sadomasochism is many things, but one of the things is boundaries violation. Both the top and the bottom are doing things, physically and emotionally, which would be completely unacceptable–even criminal–in any other context. It can be very exciting and gratifying, but it is also very draining.

    The hardest ones for me, by far, are the ones in which I realize, usually halfway through the session, that the man is acting out some really nasty childhood trauma or acting out some abusive fantasy he wants to commit to someone else (sometimes it’s both). THAT is creepy–it feels like I’m trapped in a haunted house. Example: the guy comes in with pink cotton underpants and this little girl’s outfit, and he wants to be dressed up like a 10 year old girl and then “abducted” and photographed with this old-fashioned polaroid camera he brought in. Okay, weird, but whatever. Halfway through he says, “My brother did this to me too.” Then I realize: HE was the brother, and he’s pretending to be the little sister who was molested. And he probably wants to molest another girl, but he restrains himself and just pretends to be his victim. Get it (my analyst had a party with that one. It’ll probably be written up in a journal sometime)? I swear, my blood turned to ice. That’s the sort of stuff that gets into your head. You can’t un-see it.

    Thankfully, it doesn’t happen often.

    I think that one of the reasons I hold up well is that I still have almost the exact same boundaries and limits as I did when I started doing this professionally. Some dommes, when they get comfortable, are willing to accommodate almost everything. Me–if I find something spooky or a gross-out or just too intimate, I don’t do it. It costs me a lot of work, but preserves my identity and integrity. I’ve only broken my own rules a few times–such as when I invited the sadistic Attorney to my home–and every time, I regretted it.

    ok that’s enough–I’ll save it for the blog post.

    Thanks for reading!

  5. Paltego: I finally just read the article of Matisse’s you linked to.

    Truer works were never written. I agree with her 100%. She is right about everything. ESPECIALLY about the middle man.

    The Studio takes 60% of the fee, and that’s the standard at every House I’m familiar with. That’s a big cut. Though I can say that the Studio provides infrastructure and security…I’ve never worried about a client hurting me in a House. Independent work is nerve-wracking.

    But it’s definitely where the money is. And the autonomy.

    I ask myself–why SHOULDN’T I get the full price of the fee (I hate the word “tribute”)…? I’ve been doing this stuff in my private life since I was sexually active! I’ve studied it! I have a good damn skill set! KSA, baby! AND I’M AN AUTHENTIC WACKADOODLE! I’m as pervy as most of these guys–SKILLZ, I GOT SKILLZ! lol

    I should write about this…

    Thanks Paltego!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.