Let’s talk about “Hobbyists.”
Hobbyists, for those who don’t know, are men who frequent sex workers and then review and gossip about them online.
They usually hang out on a website called The Erotic Review, but there are other sites–I think one is called ECCIE.
Unfortunately, I have reviews of The Erotic Review. The reviews are all positive, except for one guy who was pissed that I fired him (I’ll get to that in a moment).
The bad news is that the reviews make the Hobbyists know about me and make a booking.
I have NEVER met a Hobbyist who was not a douchebag. Sad, but true. Every one has bargained with me, tried to get free time, tried to get me to dine for free with them at mediocre restaurants, bragged about their reviews (a veiled threat that they would post a bad review about me), etc…
The worst of the lot was a man in NYC whom I saw when I was working as a proSub. He is one of the reasons I do not work as a proSub today (that, and the Collector would kill me).
I was brand new to working as an independent, meaning working outside of a dungeon, which is why I put up with him for five sessions. Today, I would fire him after one.
First, he complained that I asked for the money up front. I absolutely deplore having to ask for the money. An honest client leaves it on a counter without saying a word the minute he walks in, or you visit him.
“It ruins the romance!” he said. Yes, this is so romantic. Did I mention he was fat, old, bald, and plain?
Second session: brags that he’s written “almost 100 reviews” on The Erotic Review, and wants to write one about me. Is angry when I tell him I have a no-review policy.
Third session: wants me to dine with him for free at a cheap Korean BBQ place. I really needed the money from the session, so I agreed, and endured two hours of dinner. At least, to his credit, he bought me two cocktails.
(I will eat with a client for free if they are an established regular who supports me. I will eat a burger with a guy who helps pay my rent. I will also eat for free with a client who wants to take me to a super fine-dining restaurant like Per Se. Today, I will NOT eat for free with an internet rando who wants to get a pizza. Or cheap Korean BBQ. Sorry, not sorry, my social date rates apply! $100 for dinner!)
Later that night, while I was nude except for a thong and tied to the coffee table, he said, “This no-penetration thing isn’t going to work for me.”
I said in my ads–I was very explicit–“No sex. Fetish, fantasy, roleplay only. I do not get fully nude.” I posted these ads in BDSM and FETISH categories of the sex worker ad malls, NOT the escorting sections. I was very clear.
“Uhh…I said no sex,” I said, trying not to freak out, in my tied up vulnerable state.
“How about a dildo or butt plug?”
Oh my God, I thought.
“NO! Don’t make me scream!”
He backed off.
I cannot believe I went back to that guy. $350, I needed it.
Next session, incredibly, I allowed him to blindfold me. Then I got freaked out and asked him to take the blindfold off when I felt something silky and warm on my cheek.
He took it off and, what do you know, there is his penis in my face, begging for a blowjob.
Henceforth, with my dungeon friends (better believe I was telling them all about him) he was known as “Mr. Wang-on-the-face.”
“I said no sex!”
“A blowjob isn’t sex!” he reasoned. Like he was Bill Clinton or something.
Everyone knows the vast majority of fetish workers don’t offer sex. Maybe a few give handjobs. You can find fetish-friendly escorts, but that’s another category of sex work.
“Don’t touch me with that!”
He zipped it up.
The final, last time, I just couldn’t take it, and I was mildly drunk when I got there. I endured another mediocre dinner for free, and, of course, had to make conversation and flirt. I got to the room and unpacked some of my session gear. Then I panicked and made an excuse to run to the bathroom.
There, I took out an airplane-sized bottle of flavored vodka from my handbag and sucked it down.
I started to undress, and then changed my mind.
I bolted from the bathroom, picked up my gear bag, and ran out. The only thing I said was, “I’m sorry. I can’t do this. I can’t trust you.”
The next day I realized I’d left approximately $300 worth of fetish gear in his hotel room.
I emailed him to ask for it back. He said he’d return it if I came to his hotel room so that “we could talk about what happened.”
I politely asked if he would just put it into a box or a bag and leave it at the front desk for Margo to collect.
I did not want to talk to him ever again (I did not say that).
He said no, he would return it if he could see me.
Thanks for not returning MY STUFF that I PURCHASED that is important for MY BUSINESS to me, asshole!
I abandoned my property rather than see him again.
Then, of course, the review, which said, to paraphrase: “Beautiful but very unprofessional. She left the session without an explanation. Buyer beware.”
Oh, did I mention I hadn’t been paid? It’s not like I ran out with his money!
Buyer beware? What am I, a faulty coffee maker? Nobody BUYS me. They buy my service and expertise.
Yeah, Mr. Wang-in-the-face, enjoy my $80 vibrator, leather cuffs, bondage rope, and metal-handled turquoise suede flogger that matched my corset, which I can’t replace.
Sadly, this man is typical of guys hanging out of Hobbyists. Many sex workers concur. I’ve never had one treat me well.