Selling my Soul to the Devil (or maybe I don’t have a soul)

Most people believe sex work is immoral but especially religious people. Only recently has sex work become sort of normalized, but still not really. 

Anyway, it’s probably no surprise that growing up, I was taught that sex workers were basically soulless meat husks. And yet, I was intrigued by the idea of being a stripper, or a prostitute, or a porn star. I would see shows on TV with sex workers and think, why aren’t they having fun? I would have fun. But, of course, I would never because that was evil. Good thing I had the church keeping me on the straight and narrow, otherwise I would have sold my soul to the devil years ago. It just looks like such a good time.


Well, now I’m not Mormon anymore. 


Nowadays there are so many ways to work independently as a writer, or a moviemaker, or a porn star. Now I’m older, less fit, less attractive in lots of ways, but the desire to be a sex worker hasn’t left.


And here I am, on the verge of separating from my husband, I need to find my own financial stability, and the prospect of working another job that tells me when and where and who to be as they pay me unliveable wages, is soul crushing, especially knowing I will come home to take care of my children at the end of the day. 


Oh money and work, how you torture me. Decent wages and a sustainable life can’t abide the same space. When a job suffocates I have to run or die and they always suffocate, sooner or later. 


So what is a girl to do? Dance. Dance naked. Because dancing naked is joyful. Dancing naked will give me freedom and money. Dancing naked will bring me life. Like Frankenstein?


But all that social and religious programming about the evils of sex work are not that simple to overcome. 


Since leaving Mormonism I’ve toyed with the idea of sex work. I got onto FetLife to show off my spatula bruised ass after a spanking. I posted another picture of my boobs hanging out of my shirt. I read articles written by other sex workers (the ones who enjoy it) to see how they do it. I recorded myself stripping and masturbating and then I freaked out, deleted everything and never returned. 


But the idea keeps hanging on. I read about sex parties (or swingers parties) which are very sex positive orgies. Maybe I just needed to go to a sex party, every weekend. Some people golf, I dress up and fuck strangers. It’s fun. I registered for a Temple Scarlet retreat which is a naked camping trip with sex workshops. I freaked out at the last minute and cancelled the retreat. And I still have never attended a sex party. 


Something internal is stopping me from engaging in sex work, it is also stopping me from engaging in life. Now financial needs are pressuring me. Partnering with Charles opened me up a crack, but how do I open it more before it closes again?


I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know……..

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