The Whore Maker
Ever since I’ve launched this high-class escort service platform with a feminist touch, three to five women on average apply for a job with me every week. Because of me, they all want to become prostitutes.
Why Sexwork?
That’s the unspoken deal at the theater, which everyone there knows, because we all made the same deal: We get paid, so far more than just our time belongs to the theater. And from my perspective – that of a young woman – this also applies to my body.
Selling love
When people say people like me sell love, they touch upon an interesting linguistic ‘blunder’. After all, love is not buyable, and the fact that it can’t be bought is perhaps the inner contradiction of prostitution…
Abolitionism is hypocrisy
What peeves me most about the abolitionists is their hypocrisy. No, they don’t hate sex workers. They just don’t believe that they exist. Prostitutes are for them, namely, not women who work, but rather women who are wronged with violence. In us they see victims, not acting subjects. That they themselves are doing violence to us which they ascribe to the patriarchy, they do not see.No, they don’t want to criminalize us. Only our clients. They don’t want to take away our jobs. They just don’t want anybody to pay us for what we do.No, they don’t hate foreigners. They just don’t want them in their city, in their country.
Beeing a happy hooker
The door closes behind me. I am alone in the long corridor of an elegant hotel. It’s the middle of the night; guests are sleeping behind monotonous hotel room doors. In the elevator, a quick glance in the mirror – my hair is wet, my eye make-up is smudged, but my skin is glowing, my cheeks are rosy after sex and I feel pretty. I believe I never look as good as I do after some hours of fruitful sex.