My Career
Spending 20 years in the adult entertainment industry reveals the darkest corners of human nature. It’s not a world for the faint-hearted. The journey has been anything but easy — relentlessly challenging, often exhausting, and, at times, deeply disillusioning. To call it a rough ride would barely scratch the surface.
Most people prefer to remain blissfully ignorant of what happens behind the veil, but as I prepare for retirement, I’ve decided to share some truths. Over the years, I’ve had countless encounters with famous faces: politicians, actors, inventors, and multimillionaire tech executives.
Picture — when I was too young to know any better. I was in it for the thrill.
Now, let me clarify something — I am not an escort. You might be expecting me to admit that, but the answer is no. My work involves intense fetish scene work. Some of it I can talk about; other parts are sealed by NDAs, forever locked away.
Most of the people who came to my office were…
The kind of people I’ve worked with often had deeply deviant fantasies — so intense that they feared if they didn’t find a safe outlet, they might eventually harm an innocent person. That’s the nature of the scenes I’ve been involved in, and now you might start to grasp the complexity of my work.
I’ve worked with priests. Yes, priests. Men who spent their days listening to confessions but carried their own unspoken desires, ones they could never act on. My work gave them a space to confront those urges without crossing dangerous lines.
I’ve had the husbands of senators come to me — men with a secret craving for trans encounters, yearning to be used as tools for the pleasure of young gay men. They sought to be beaten, humiliated, and have their bodies turned into objects of desire and control.
I once had a tech executive, high on cocaine, show up at my office, begging me to fulfill a fantasy so extreme it bordered on surreal — he wanted to be stuffed into his car trunk, kidnapped, raped, and abandoned on a desert highway.
He slammed $10,000 in hundred-dollar bills onto the table, locked eyes with me, and pulled out a bag of powder. “Your choice,” he said. “Cash or drugs — what’s it gonna be?”
I’ve had TV personalities — the ones you watch every day — confess fetishes that would leave most people speechless. From eating their dom’s feces to drinking their own urine in public, their secrets are far darker than you’d ever imagine.
I’ve had writers who craft bits for the news come to me convinced they have fetishes, only to realize they don’t. They’re searching for something, anything, to make them feel alive, but it’s often just an illusion of desire rather than the real thing.
And then, of course, there’s the endless stream of married men — desperate and frustrated — whose wives refuse to dominate them in any way. They come to me, searching for the power dynamics they can’t find at home.
It doesn’t end. I’ve had people confide in me with secrets so dark they could land them behind bars. And yet, I’m still alive.
I’ve always found this work fascinating, especially when it comes to the differences in people — their kinks, their boundaries, and the things they secretly desire but rarely act on. It’s intriguing to see how many are too afraid to step into scene work, even when it’s what they truly want.
