My mum used to say that, at the time I didn’t think much of it, my mum was both a racist and a snob, she was tiresomely proud that we where descended from non-convict English ‘ruling class’ and she would also point out that I was a half cast. I was happy with that, I never thought much of her ancestors – half mine – who robbed this land from it’s rightful owners and built it on the back of convict slave labour, good for you arseholes.
That’s not the point of this story, this is about sick and demented things I did for money and one of them was to play dead.
I had a few clients over the years ask for this and it was creepy. The client would have you lie on the bed – in this instance in my ‘Sunday best’ which was a tunic style box pleat black dress with a plain white shirt, plain white cotton underwear and black patent leather school shoes, roughly school uniform looking.
I’d be holding a bouquet of arum lilies and lie there on the bed motionless while he half undressed me, and by that I mean he unstrapped my dress, unbuttoned my shirt, pushed my bra up over my boobs, lifted my skirt pulled down my knickers and fucked me.
I was to remain motionless and soundless during the act and when he came he’d re-dress me and leave. That was it. I’ve done worse things, but this I found disturbing, very disturbing it was borderline necrophilia and it gave me the shivers.
Some time back a blogger accused me of making prostitution seem glamorous to young girls, really? Does this sound like fun to anyone?