Saturday, May 14, 2011

Something's Afoot

Well over a year ago, I met this customer at my Manhattan club who lived in Boston but was in NYC on business. I vaguely remember meeting him; he refreshed my memory last night by saying he blew a lot of money telling me "just keep giving me lapdances till your shift is over." Apparently he took down my email address and dropped me a line. It prompted me to search my e-mail history today - here's what he sent me in 2010:

"You are brilliant, beautiful and can I say just a gorgeous girl. I would love to stay in touch. I was wondering, if you have sometime tomorrow I'd love to take you shopping at Tiffany's and have brunch before I leave. Please answer. Good luck with school!"

I turned him down, and he left town...I didn't hear from him for a year or so, until just a few months he reported his intentions to come to NY for an orthopedics convention (he's an orthopedic surgeon), offering me a HUGE chunk of money to meet him at a restaurant wearing anklets, toe rings, and black heels.

Let's just say, easiest cash I've ever made. No sex, mostly talking, and I was fed a great dinner and some fruity champagne drinks. He confessed to his foot fetishism being linked to a sort of submissive sexual identity, so I proceeded to come across as super-confident and bold; someone he was powerless but to listen to. He ate it up!

I'm not sure if I'll see him again, but things certainly got off on the right foot! Figuratively, only, of course...

I've entertained probably close to seven or eight foot fetishists at work. One was actually my friend's customer, but when she was out sick, she ordered him (he also saw her as his mistress he had to obey) to worship my feet in her absence. Basically, I'd take a bar stool into the lapdance area, sit on it, and shove my feet all over his face for four or five dances. Once in a while, I'd chime in with "Worship my feet!" Another one is this super-old guy who's deaf and not 100% together up there, yet still has no difficulty wandering into strip clubs every few weeks. He rarely buys lapdances, but will tuck singles into your stilettos if you give him a little sniff of your toes or play footsies with him.

Now, having my feet worshipped is not something that gets my engine going. And while I often put my foot in my mouth, I'm not too keen on putting it in others'. But when it comes to a paid encounter, a foot fetish is about the best thing you can ask for. You get to keep your clothes on, you get compensated for shoe shopping, and provided the guy is more into stockings than stalking, you're sure to stay safe!


  1. hang onto this one. girl, get bossy!

  2. would love to worship your feet, but have no idea where you work!

    a clue, perhaps?