CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
2003- White Knuckle Days
For a brief moment, things were smooth sailing- that brief sweet spot lasted from early September to late December.
During that period, I was working at least 3 shibari sessions a week out of the dungeon, with a sideline in sissy training and foot worship. Donya and Marisol were pleased to see I was starting to get requests for follow-up appointments. For the most part, I enjoyed the work- shibari always soothed the ADHD side of my brain.
I was intellectually committed to staying clean, and determined not to fuck up my parole status. Because, despite all of the fun I was having being a boss bitch in a female-run boutique dungeon, I was technically still not free. June 20, 2004 would be my liberation date.
I’m gonna speak the truth here- no matter how it’s gussied up, sex work is wearing on the soul. You’re constantly having to deal with someone else’s deepest, most shameful desires, while trying to regulate any emotions that might bring up in you. And this was particularly difficult for someone who was soooooo used to numbing out even the barest whisper of existential pain with hefty doses of narcotics. I knew I needed to find some sort of regimen that would help me take the edge off. But I also knew whatever I did would have to be undetectable, at least for the next few months until my parole was completed. After that I’d revisit the issue.
In the meantime, I was gonna stack my money, build up my clientele and walk the straight and narrow as much as possible. The only thing that was nagging at me was a teeny, tiny voice in the very back of my mind telling me it was not a good idea to isolate. That compartmentalizing was bad.
I’d already pulled away from Simone, because I didn’t want to contaminate her with any of my funky thoughts. I also couldn’t stand her boyfriend, and it seemed like they’d become a package deal. Someone shoulda slipped that girl a copy of Co-Dependent No More. It was bad.
I’d also put June back on the back burner, because hanging with him brought back memories of the bad old times. I needed to ride this one out alone.
Slippery slope time, y’all.
