This guy went on a trek to a monastery in Cambodia. He had this silver bracelet blessed by one of the monks there. Nobody touched it from when the priest blessed it to when he gave it to me. He goes on about spirituality quite a lot. He lives in Abu Dhabi but he doesn’t like it there because he says there isn’t enough spirituality so he likes to travel to places where he feels there’s more of it.
A client gave me this for my birthday. He used to always comment on whether I’d gained or lost weight. Eventually I told him that this upset me and asked him to stop. To his credit he was very apologetic and stopped doing it. It never seemed to have occurred to him that this would have bothered me.
My client got me this book because he knows I love Bollywood. He would download Hindi films for me on his laptop. We watched Gangs of Wasseypur together, which I was really happy about because I’d been wanting to see it for ages.
One of my regular clients gave me this a few days after Trump was elected president.
As I was fucking one of my clients he suddenly asked if he could ‘spork’ me. I started laughing and asked what the hell that meant. He said he had been reading a book of 101 sexual positions and apparently one of them was called the ‘spork’. I can’t even remember what kind of configuration it was, but we tried it. The next time he saw me, he gave me this plastic spork as a joke.
He sent me this funny package of things prior to us meeting for the first time, which contained a book of Saki’s short stories, Pater’s Notes on the Renaissance, a DVD of I Don’t Know Where I’m Going, a selection of three films by a French Canadian filmmaker, and a British Museum publication on classic Greek sculptures. They were things he had read into my aesthetic. I had seen the films before and they do fit into this gay romantic idea in people’s heads. Clearly he had the feeling that I was from another era, that I was somehow pre-Raphaelite in the way I looked and presented myself. Some of these books on classical sculpture seemed to feed into what he read into my aesthetic, this idea of a beautiful boy. Giving me all this and saying have a look was a way to express his own desire perhaps – to hint at me.
City of Lies
My client knows I lived in the Middle East and assumes I love sex, so I guess he was putting two and two together when he gave me this book.
Jon, he was about 85 and older than my usual client. He was going through a very difficult time when we first met. His wife had Alzheimer’s and aggressive, unremitting cancer, although I did not learn this until much later. As a new escort it was unnerving as he barely touched me. He was a true gentlemen and ‘courted me’ with gifts, dinners and surprise money added to my account. He started to call me by a totally new name which got confusing. He told me that being with me was like stepping back in time as my resemblance to his wife was uncanny. He started to tell me more about her. She was a model and had legs that went on for days. Jon treated me like a princess. He never had sex with me and I think that is why the pearl panties came into play … He believed somehow that just by wearing them I would be getting off on them rubbing against my bare lips. Or perhaps he felt he was being loyal to his wife by not having sex with me. He loved the clothes he gave me but I hated them. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t for me. It was for her. I understood that. I usually never allowed a client to take photographs of me but these were for him. It was a re-creation of a fragment of memory of his wife he was desperately trying to fix and put back together. He was a researcher into medicines for cancer. He was losing all the women he had ever loved, his mother and now his one sweetheart to the thing he had spent his life trying to defeat. I think he was crushed and I wanted to give him something to hold onto and remember her as she was. When his wife finally passed away I saw him once more and he wanted to know if I thought he was a bad or selfish person for having that time with me while she was still here. He wept for a love that’s so rare these days. I offered him my comfort but in the end he decided he didn’t want to love me and so curse me with the same fate as his mother and wife.
Jiu Jitsu Gi
The garment was bequeathed by a client from the Continent for a fantasy wrestling scene involving a sneaky martial arts student and her unsuspecting sparring partner. Since the Gi is the wrong size for the worker, and thus hinders her movements, it was only ever worn for 20 minutes in total.
I received the necklace on our second meeting. It was a piece of Pakistani jewellery that I knew I’d never actually wear as it was quite large and didn’t seem to match anything I had.
These cups were appropriated from the Rosewood Hotel in Holborn for domestic use and currently function as toothbrush holders in a shared house.
#OODnc310We didn’t go to Paris together – and it wasn’t bought back from a holiday. It’s not that kind of souvenir.
A client gave me this very posh handmade pottery burner. I can’t have incense because of my weak lungs and I don’t like the smell of rose. It’s from a submissive client who I stopped seeing because he fell in love with me. I found it was such an intrusive thing, smell is so important.
#OODCl276He wanted us to wear them at the same time during sex, I don’t know why. It’s the only time it’s happened to me that one of the hotel staff walked into the room mid session.
This book was a gift from my first solo client. I was disarmed by his questions about my life and accidentally revealed some personal details such as my real name. I saw him every few months after that, and he brought me this book back from Belgium knowing that I spoke French. It felt like a more meaningful and personal gift than underwear or perfume – it’s something that I liked, not that the client wanted me to wear. About 6 months later we had a post-appointment coffee and chat – and he let slip that he was married. Maybe this was a revelation too far for him, as I never heard from him again.
Book of Symbols
I like stealing from hotels but taking travel shampoos and sewing kits doesn’t interest me anymore. I try to steal a copy of this from the Rosewood every time I go there to see a client. I’ve given several as gifts. I don’t know if the clients have to pay for them when they check out. Nobody has ever said anything to me.
I had a new client see me during his lunch break. After a very short session we had time to chat. I told him I was studying English Literature at university (not entirely true – I’d studied it briefly in Year 11). This is when he recommended a book called Fanny Hill, a very old novel, which follows the life of a prostitute. Although I didn’t think it was that tactful, I knew I was due to read a new book and decided to order it that day. I made a list of the descriptors for penis and vagina used in the book and sent them to all my friends.
That wonderful machine
That capital part of man
The flaming red head
Fierce erect machine of his
His red-headed champion
This weapon of pleasure
The engine of love-assaults
The largeness of his machine
A hard thick body
A column of the whitest Ivory
Stiff staring truncheon, red topped
His drawn weapon
Essential object of enjoyment
A stiff hard body
A maypole of so enormous a standard
A breadth of animated Ivory
An object of terror and delight
This furious engine
Furious battering ram
The proud distinction of his sex
Pleasing object of all my wishes
The King member
Long white staff
Genuine sensitive plant
Standard of distinction
The battering piece
Small tender part
Red centred cleft of flesh
Recently opened wound
That soft passage
Wounded torn passage
Torn tender folds
Centre of attraction
The cloven spot
Warm and insufficient orifice
The tender opening
Soft strait passage
Region of delight
Soft laboratory of love
Treasury of love
Organ of bliss
Soft gateway to the entrance of pleasure
This was given to me by a client who is a biologist and lover of Richard Dawkins. His views on the superiority of Western science were tough to swallow, especially when I started doing my Master’s in anthropology and was feeling totally rad about challenging those epistemological biases. We would engage in long debates about science, culture and religion. I would get drunk, accuse him of being trapped in an cage of post-enlightenment rationality, and say I didn’t believe in evolution. I took it too far though, when I told him I didn’t read this Steven Pinker book he gave me because, “It’s total SHIT”. He got offended by that.
Asa Akira products
This was a gift from a client after a weekend trip to Paris. He had asked me at some point who my favourite porn star was and I’d seen an interview with Asa Akira so just said her, although I don’t think I’d ever even watched her porn before. I’ve never read the book but he did want to watch the DVD with me.
Alice in Wonderland T-shirt
#OODTl254I often used to turn up to bookings in designer trousers and jacket with this t-shirt. It’s the moment when Alice is falling down and all the cards are hitting her in the face. At least it’s not just me, I would think.
There was one person, he liked kind of extreme close ups. For ages and ages he would always request close ups when we were in the public room. Everybody is perfectly happy for a bit of a close up but then at one point he asked if I could get an endoscope type camera to make a video for him. So there you go, not just really close but inside! So now I have an endoscope with a light on the end. It’s one that you’d plug into your computer with a USB end. I wasn’t that surprised but it was unusual. It was fine, it was interesting to do.
I had a guy give me a CD of his own music. It was comedy gold. It was woodland themed, and I remember one of the tracks was called “Frog Jam: Amphibians Go Wild” and it was just frog noises. In the back he had written a personalized message saying “Merry Crimble!” He showed up to the booking in yellow dungarees, with some birch twigs he had picked himself and cello taped together that he wanted to be beaten with.
#OODMs228Audrey January 2017When I moved flats, a client turned up with the most horrible print. It's like one of those old Punch cartoons of this Victorian bloke leering round the corner at two women in petticoats and it's just hideously rendered. It's still in its original packaging. I never put it up because it was too repulsive for me to even consider. He never mentioned it again. It's still got the sticker from the shop it's from on Charing Cross Road.
Carbon monoxide detector
#OODDm224I realized how many of his gifts were protective. That day when I went to see him the first thing he did was clean my new belly button piercing with antiseptic and tell me I should remove it before my blood went septic. Then he asked what the stove was like in my new house. He gave me the carbon monoxide detector and told me a story about some kids in Greece who died in their sleep. Then he gave me a USB stick because he was afraid I might delete all my uni work. That’s useful. I was thinking, "Wow. this guy has really got my back."
Salt and pepper shakers
#OODPt220Rori My favourite client gave me these pig shaped salt and pepper shakers. I think he bought them in California. Although I’ve never actually used them, I always have them sitting on my kitchen window sill. Looking at them makes me smile when I’m doing the washing up.
Harvey and Albert
#OODPt214Medusa Rain I lost my dog a few years ago and these were given to help me through it. I treasure them more than gold. Silly, I know, but I'm sentimental. My regulars knew I was struggling. They're nice guys and way better than some I've known. I know that we get stigmatised and looked at like dirt by some people just for earning a living, but it’s small kindnesses like this that make it worthwhile.
The Berry Thought of You
#OODSn210January 2017Before I went on a trip with a client, my boyfriend came with me to get a manicure. He painted his little fingernail the same shade of pink as my nails. The colour is called "The Berry Thought of You". While I was on the trip, whenever I felt worn down and disorientated, I would look at my nails. I felt like I could connect to my boyfriend through them and that gave me strength and made me feel safe.
Belly button wax
#OODnr207Marie Belly button wax guy … He was obsessed with bellybuttons, his own and other people’s. He liked to pour candle wax into them and make little casts of them. Then he’d collect them from different sex workers. He’d make casts of his own belly button with me, but then ask me to gift them back to him at some other point and say that I had been wanking over them. He was fascinated with the idea that I had this auto navel eroticism like he did, but I didn’t.
#OODRl201Rori The same guy who gives me jam also used to give me homemade pumpkin butter. He would tweak the quantities of ingredients, trying to find the perfect recipe. He seemed to think that because I’m American I liked eating pumpkins. He’d say, “I’ve made this for you so you can feel at home!” I’d never eaten pumpkin butter in my life before I met him.
#OODCl198The Pakistani jacket/ dress was given to me as a gift which I wasn't expecting. He made sure I knew it came from a prestigious shop in Karachi and gave me the card so I could browse the website. I did wear it again over sexy lingerie another time that I met him.
Birthday package from Splenda Daddy
#OODCr191January 2017This client is a kind of cheap sugar daddy, more of a splenda daddy. For my birthday he gave me a jar of marmalade, some chocolates and a card. On the card he had drawn a portrait of me, just a quick pen drawing, almost a cartoon. It was of a photograph of me that I knew he would not have been able to see had he not known my real name and found my Facebook. So there was this thing of having to sustain a performance of thanking him for the gift while on the inside thinking, "Jesus, how the hell did he get this?" It was a tough space to navigate, trying to keep the booking normal after that.
#OODCr186Marie An incredibly long, self-indulgent card a client wrote to me before our first session detailing the role he wants me to play in his fantasy life.
#OODnc180Marie I used to work in parlours, which at the time was an easy way of keeping my work and the rest of my life separate. When not working, I would leave all the incriminating evidence of my sex work at the parlour in this pink box. Stockings, condoms, sponges – I was so worried that if I took home anything and my boyfriend or flatmate found it, then my secret would be out.
#OODnw177A submissive client gave me this very posh handmade pottery burner. I can’t have incense because of my weak lungs and I don’t like the smell of rose. It’s from a submissive client who I stopped seeing because he fell in love with me. I found it was such an intrusive thing, smell is so important.
Fatboy penis extender
#OODPh164L January 2017He came after a minute, pulled off the Fat Boy, told me I could have it and ran out. He left his tie behind as well. It was the most embarrassing moment of his life. It wasn’t about me at all, it was about his own dick. I was just a prop in this, but nevertheless I ended up with the Fatboy. I am the one who is now using it.
#OODMn157Anonymous January 2017He was really nervous and chatting far too much. After paying me, he asked if I’d like to see some foreign money and then proceeded to give me a tour of everywhere he’d travelled to over the past few months through the different cash notes in his wallet. He gave me these ones as they’re from where he lives. He laughed at my enthusiasm at something worth so little. I was just intrigued by this incredibly young but financially successful man’s obsession with money.
Assorted jams and preserves
#OODRl152Rori November 2016
I’ve wondered why he always gives me preserves. I can see that he gets a lot of pleasure from giving me food and feeling that he is caring for me. I’ve also noticed that he is very into bodily fluids and often says how nice it is that we ‘taste’ each other. I wonder if the jars of sticky jam are a symbolic substance, a kind of proxy for bodily fluids … As if me storing them in my cupboard and ingesting them is a way for him to transcend the boundaries of our sessions, inserting himself somehow into my home and body.
New Testament Bible
I met this client at a hotel bar near Canary Wharf. He had instructed me beforehand to wear something sexy, approach him at the bar as though we were strangers and attempt to seduce him.
I was shocked when he showed up in priest’s robes and this copy of the New Testament. I stroked his thigh and tried to convince him to take me up to his room.
Two days later a company he had invested in imploded and he lost half a million pounds. He feared that he was being punished for his priest stunt and felt compelled to give me the bible the next time he saw me in order to set things right. As he passed it to me he looked up at the ceiling and said, “I’m sorry! Please don’t destroy me!”
#OODSh71Marie August 2015
These are some shoes I don’t have anymore so it’s just a photo of them. They are some shoes that a client gave me. I think I hid them so that he wouldn’t find them and make me wear them but now I’ve actually lost them.
#OODcc68Mizuno This client decided he couldn't call me Rose because it was too much of an 'escort name.' He said when he shouted "Hey, Rose!" in public, he might as well be shouting "Hey, hooker!" He said he initially wanted to call me Gretzky after the record-breaking hockey player, because he had broken his personal jerk-off record thinking about me. Then he decided he disagreed with Gretzky's support of the Bush Administration, so he chose Mizuno after the Japanese golf brand, because of their slogan, "Nothing feels like a Mizuno." So he gave me this visor and started calling me Mizuno.