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Mama I’m in love with a pervert

Mama I’m in love with a criminal. And this type of love isn’t rational, it’s physical. (it’s physical). This song by Britney Spears was playing in an arty clothing shop in Glasgow as I was spending my prostitution earnings. I’m playing it right now. The rest of the lyrics after this are: Mama please don’t cry, I will be alright/and all reason aside, I just can’t deny, I love that guy./He’s a rebel with a tainted heart/And even I am just a tart.

Roland thinks that I think I love him, so if I did my song (to the same tune of Criminal) would be:

Mama I’m in love with a pervert now.

And this type of love isn’t rational, it’s physical. (It’s physical).

Mama please don’t judge him cos he treats me right,

And I got all the fucking that I need all night. (all night long).

He’s got a corporate facade but a pervert’s core

And he’s the perfect mate for me, a whore.

Mama please don’t sigh, he’s not my only man

Your daughter’s proud to be a slut and she has ten.

Mama please don’t cry, he got millions

I’ll love him till I meet a guy with billions (with billions)

He’s a pervert but an educated one

And furthermore the sex is really fun.

Mama, he’s the one I have to marry

If I really want that red Ferrari!

 

Mama please don’t cry, your baby’ll be alright

As long as she can fuck three hours a night. (Three hours a night)

And Roland is my soulmate, I can tell

By his balance sheet and his car as well

Mama he’s polyamorous like me

And he holds the key for me, to set me free.

He’s a dirty old man with no qualms

But he’s giving me 8000 pounds

See, he’s of financial benefit to me

And also I’m learning how to fuck for free.

He’s a professional who loves his art,

And I’m a kinky bitch without a heart.

 

Mama I’m in love with a pervert now,

And this type of love isn’t spiritual; it’s professional

I’m a prostitute who likes electric drills

So, if I lived my fantasies, I’d kill.

What I want to do to him is criminal

And my self-control at best is miminal (it’s minimal)

Mama, my dreams are the devil’s art

But rape and torture are dear to my heart.

Mama please don’t cry, I won’t set him on fire

All laws aside, I can’t deny, wanna rape that guy.

The Government can’t torture me in Britain,

This is a situation that’s not worth living,

But worse still, if I use electricity

On him without consent, they’d imprison me.

 

Mama, Roland’s fucking a criminal

He doesn’t know my sex drive is so powerful

Mama I’m scared I’m gonna lose control

And end up in jail, cos you know, I’m a ho.

Mama do you know where to get a taser?

It’d be cool if I could find a laser

He’s a fucking pervert, a predator

But an educated fucking pervert, so that’s better.

Mama, I’m in love with a pervert now,

I’m a pure virgin with my innocence in tow

Mama, do you think he’s too much for me?

If he loves me back, I might get that Ferrari.

 

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Afterwards

We talked some more – musing over how the film would be done, discussing ideas, and also chatting about other things like Creationism, the Epic of Gilgamesh and world stuff/current events. It was very much like talking online with him on the art site, where this whole Virgin/Whore dichotomy idea had been born through our messages about the double standard and its creation of the dichotomy, as expressed in many ancient religions and texts such as the Bible (and, more recently, in the works of de Sade: Juliet v Justine). Roland thinks that de Sade “places pleasure (philosophically) where Nietzsche places the will, and the rest follows inexorably both through feeling and through logic.”

Roland had said online that he wanted to do photographs of me in a brothel for his project “the Virgin in the Whorehouse” which we’ll probably do along with the virginity film, or after. When I told him about looking into selling my virginity on adultwork.com (a site which my friend had told me that his friend, a sex worker, used) he said a girl who wants to sell her virginity is surely “the perfect VirginWhore”  He also said “you are a piquant combination of a pure body and an impure mind; the fantasies and curiosities of the Virgin conspiring inevitably to bring about her own Fall of her own volition, and for her own pleasure. Whether that pleasure be physical, material, spiritual, artistic or all of these at once. If man-meal you would have yourself be, then these pleasures are the exquisite spices that make it worth paying for – and, indeed, consuming. It is a very human story, an old story”.

I wrote to him: “Oh to be a Victorian, to transform in an instant from angel in the house into fallen woman! The American Tragedy of the beautiful, intelligent young sluts the psychiatrists fled from in horror when they percieved the sexuality of the 1950s/60s woman. Maybe they knew, even then, that the repression was falling; maybe they glimpsed in their unmarried pregnant patients’ eyes the courage and adventurousness of their innocent daughters.”

I include snippets of these conversations because I believe they form a backdrop to our arrangement, and are perhaps the reasons for this deal – without any connection through writing I doubt the deal would have happened, because for Roland sex is all to do with the mind and the mind is the greatest sexual organ. And so it is with me as well, I think.

Anyway, we continued talking and I remember thinking that I probably look hot eating the icecream (not that I was attempting to do so in a hot way; just not shovelling it in as I would do if I was at home). I eat lots of icecream and 5-6 bars of chocolate per day as well as coffee, hot chocolate and crisps; I’ve never dieted in my life. I was feeling sort of mentally dizzy after he said £8000 because although I’ve always wanted to sell my virginity, I never truly imagined I’d succeed!  And I would have, if necessary, sold it for £4000 or even £3000; (but then since Roland would be seeing me after getting my virginity and giving me the rest then, you could say that the virginity itself was being sold for £4k). Before he paid the bill, I went to the toilet to jump up and down and go “YES!YES!YES!” in private and look at my beautiful self in the mirror. I’m not one of those squealing fashion-slave divas who spends an eternity getting ready. In fact, I’ve never had my nails done professionally or been waxed; I only go to the hairdressers if I want highlights and trim my hair myself. And I LOVE LOVE my style which, although it incorporates the trends, is not at all dependent on the latest look (though I usually will have one or two items of clothing that reflect the latest look.) But, despite only taking about 5-10 minutes each morning to get ready, I always look fabulous. I’ve had total strangers from teens to little old ladies and accountants come up to me in the street and compliment my cheapo outfits that I buy in Internacionale, Primark, New Look and at best Topshop, Bank, Dorothy Perkins, Next and Republic. Anyway, I jumped up and down for a while before actually using the toilet and then staring at myself in the mirror and my reflection looked radiant and golden. I thought, ‘I have to tell Lochlan’ (my best friend) but my phone, Fire, wasn’t with me or I would have right then. I may have said “8000! You did it! You did it! Yes! Yes! 8000” but I’m not sure; my memory is very fuzzy at this point because this was the best moment of my life, and the fact that I was experiencing the best moment of my life in a toilet cubicle didn’t bother me at all. After a bit more screaming, I went back outside and Roland and I walked to his car (it’s a BMW convertible and, as he says, it’s a boy car with muscles. I won’t describe it further though). We had the run the last hundred metres to beat the traffic warden, which we managed by one minute.

 

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The Deal

Roland’s mention of his art quest reminded me of what he said online: “I see you also as a lovely muse, someone with whom to create or inspire art – erotic art. I see what happens sexually between us as part of that art. It is surely appropriate that an artist pays his muses. And this payment does not – alone – make them whores.” I had suggested we film it, and I knew this idea appealed to him.

“If I could film it,” he said now, looking at me steadily, “And take photographs – if I could make some art out of it – a work of art, not just a porn film…I would look at the sex as part of that art…”

“Yeah, anyone can make a porno,” I said, “Two 12 year old neds could make a good porn film. It would have a narrative. And,” I added, dispensing with the hushed voice “It would not be just that one second, the goods would be yours for a whole day. If you saw my second-last message…” Roland nodded. “Yeah, just no big permanent marks. Small ones are okay.”

He grinned at me, amused and a little surprised. “You want a reminder, don’t you!” he said.

“I don’t want a reminder, I just wouldn’t mind one,” I smiled. “And now there’s a deal you won’t get anywhere else.”

He nodded.

“So, how good are you at negotiation?” he asked, looking right at me.

I smiled instantly. “We-ell, I tricked the Chief of Police of the entire […] district into admitting he’d lied and that police on his force had been corrupt – that was to do with the local authority thing I told you about. I was 18 then. So that should tell you something about my skills.”

Roland frowned, and I knew he was thinking about the local authority in another town and how they had lied about my family.

“That was pretty impressive, right?” I said, grinning.

“What’s the first rule of negotiation?” he said suddenly.

I thought for a bit, a little smile on my face and looking hot while I was thinking (as I always do if I use this particular ‘thinking’ expression). I said, “I think it would be always to keep the end goal in your mind. Because as long as you don’t forget your goal, you will make a good negotiation.”

“That’s very true.”

“So what do you think is the first rule of negotiation?” I said.

He thought for a bit. “I would say, don’t be the first to name a price. Because then the other person can change it or lower it or debate it.”

That made me smile. “I already broke that one, didn’t I? Like I said I wasn’t after as much as those other girls got.[4k; 8k and 100k]”

“How much are your student debts?” he said.

“I think eight thousand, but it might be like twelve thousand now because they changed it.” [Actually now I know it would have been 10k if they had not changed it, but after changing it it is now 12k. Which doesn’t matter anyway because I doubt Roland would have given me 10k or 12k; or if he had, he might have asked for more stuff in return.And as this venture is not actually prompted by student debts, it doesn’t really matter.]

“I’ll give you eight thousand,” he said, “Provided that we film it; we’ll do some spanking, bondage and some shots to establish the narrative. So it might take three or four times before we actually consummate it And you continue seeing me after the consummation, for photographs and some more spanking and sex.”

I put my dessert spoon in my mouth and sucked off the icecream. It was the best raspberry ice cream I’d ever had.

I said, semi-truthfully, “I don’t know if I’d be here after we consummate it because I might go travelling. I’m not going to say I certainly will be here if I might not.”

“Well, let’s say four thousand for the virginity, and a further four thousand for if you want to continue,” he said.

“Yeah, I think that’d be easier,” I nodded.

We agreed that he’d pay me £1000 each time he saw me; I wanted this method of installments, rather than a lump sum, because it meant that if either of us wanted to back out, it would be easy to do so without negotiating how much was owed or how much of the deal had been fulfilled.

“And,” I said, “I would want something in advance; it doesn’t have to be much.”

“Like a deposit,” Roland smiled.

“Yeah – like I’m a Ferrari.”

 

 

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Selling virginity: an attempt at documenting the experience

I started this blog because I am selling my virginity, and I wanted to document this wonderful adventure I’m having – not out of vanity or celebration, but as an accurate portrayal of our society at this precise moment – the human experience of pleasure, ideas, our social world, which led to this exquisite transaction and which will ultimately shape it – whether we are aware of it or not.

Obviously, all names will be changed. This is my first attempt at blogging so I cannot promise you an earth-shatteringly good blog which will blow your mind/provide a startling social commentary/whatever. All I can deliver is the truth; or rather the truth from my point of view, as I see it.

I hope you enjoy reading what I write – whether it amuses, entertains or surprises you.

 

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