I can’t sleep.
Listen to me: if you are a professional switch or submissive woman, or even a non-professional switch or submissive woman in the Tri-State area, and you are reading this, you need to email me to find out how to avoid this man.
You’ll never guess the blast from the past making the rounds here at Margo Manor…
The Attorney. Remember him?
A woman approached me at work. Her eyes were wet. She looked scared.
“Do you know (Attorney’s real name)? He knows you.”
I pulled her into one of the back rooms so that we could talk privately.
She sessioned with him. A submissive session. Outside of the Studio. And he told her alllllll about me.
Why would he tell her about me, a year and a half later…?
Apparently, I made quite an impression on him.
That’s okay. He left am impression on me. All kinds of impressions.
He made an impression on this woman, too.
He didn’t hurt her as badly as he hurt me. She’s not a masochist. Couldn’t take it. But he rode her as hard as he possibly could. She claims that she was sobbing and screaming at the end.
This woman is not a wimp. She is a MMA fighter.
“He’s insane! He’s like Patrick Bateman! Right down to his suit and briefcase!”
“And his stare! His awful stare!”
Yes. The psychopath stare. I’ll never forget it.
“He was like Ted Bundy!”
This woman started to shake. She started to cry.
“He is terrifying,” I said. “I’ve never met anyone like him.”
“He asked about you!” she said.
“I believe it,” I said. Otherwise, how would she know I ever met him?
“I thought he could kill me!” she wailed.
“He could, but he won’t. He’s too controlled. Look at his professional success. He can pull it together; pass himself off as normal. He runs cold. Not hot.”
“I can’t do sub sessions anymore. I can’t risk something like that happening again,” she said.
I’m telling you: the woman was terrified recounting this to me. Pupils dilated, skin white. And this was a week after the session. She was traumatized.
“How long did it take you to heal?” I asked.
“I still have marks, but they’re mostly gone now. My MMA sensei at the dojo saw them and couldn’t believe it. I told him that I fell down the stairs,” she said.
He marked me for a month. A month. And his technical skill was incredible. I’ve never seen someone so proficient with the tools.
And how do you get proficient…?
This man has hurt many, many women.
As I am typing this, the emotion that I feel is rank terror. The hair on my arms is standing up. I can’t sleep.
Do you want to know more? Come sit on mommy’s lap. I have a bedtime story for you…
The Attorney told me that one time he flew from NYC to Little Rock, Arkansas to meet a woman he met online. A submissive. Not a professional.
He beat her in her ranch house. It was all pre-arranged. He’d made a special box for bastinado. Constructed it in his garage. A little weekend carpentry, ha ha. The people at airport security took it out of his luggage and couldn’t figure out what it was, he said, laughing. Like it was a joke.
He beat this woman, drove back to the airport, and flew back home. He flew halfway across the United States to torture someone.
“And his wedding ring! He didn’t even take it off for the session!” said the woman at the studio. “I was screaming! He shattered a yardstick on me!”
Yes indeed. He’s married. Someone married him.
Probably a woman just like me.
I wonder what he does to her.
Listen to me: if you are a woman reading this and you are dating or sessioning with dominant men/male Tops in the Tri-state area, you need to email me. I will tell you how to identify and avoid this man. I don’t have his last name…but I know enough to tell you how to spot him.
He is a killer. A stone cold killer. And once he’s done with you, you’ll never forget it. I had three meetings with him, and I still think about him every day of my life. I’ve had a million clients, and I remember him the best. He is a predator, and cold like an insect or the inside of a refrigerator.
Oh, one more thing: the first time he hired me, he hired me as a domme. There isn’t a submissive bone in his body, but he is a masochist, and when he takes it, you can’t hit him hard enough.
He has hounded me across the internet ever since I cut off contact with him. CollarMe, Fetlife, every ad I posted. It is probable that he is reading this. If he is, I’m sure that he’s smiling and jerking off. All of those delicious memories, amirite? It’s fun to scare girls, amirite?
Do you know what he wrote to me after “The pizza was fantastic!” that served, like a bucket of icewater in my face, to wake me up, and see him for what he was (though a woman who was not fucked up would have recognized him right away)?
“If you want to serve me, this is your assignment: think of the worst possible punishment you could administer to another female. Describe it. Blow by blow. Implements used. If it pleases me, I will do it to you.”
Escorts probably don’t have to worry about him. He’s not interested in sex, though he can orgasm. He is obsessed with violence.
He’s out there, ladies, and he’s young, so he’s going to be doing this for a long, long time. Email me, and I’ll tell you how to steer clear of him.
If you want a little walk down memory lane, click his tag label.
I’d post more photos of the marks he left on me–the photos would turn your hair white–but he has copies of the pictures and if he’s not reading this, I don’t want him to find me via a google images search. Just fucking trust me.
P.S. And you know what else sucks? It sucks that I can’t go to the police and mention this to them. I wouldn’t try to get him arrested, because he didn’t do anything wrong to me, other than humiliate me a bit when he rejection and pizza quip. Everything he did to me was consensual. But…it would be good if he was on the police’s radar. I wouldn’t have to convince them of anything. The photos of my injuries would speak for themselves. It was epic. Truly.
But I can’t do that, because I’m a sex worker.
I can’t believe I emailed him photos of my mangled hide. He loved them. Torture porn. I’m sure he’s got quite the collection. He hangs out on some dark corners of the internet.
I can’t sleep.